Flipper And The Skipper
by Teobi
Summary: A lost dolphin arrives in the lagoon. The castaways decide to train it to fetch help, but one castaway becomes emotionally attached to the creature and soon finds himself with another 'little buddy.'
1. Flipper

_**Story Summary**- When a young dolphin appears in the lagoon, the castaways formulate a rescue plan that involves training the creature to go and fetch help. But one certain castaway becomes emotionally attached to the animal, and soon finds himself with another 'little buddy'._

_All GI characters are property of the one and only Sherwood Schwartz, who I hope is now sharing a laugh or two up there with Gilligan, Skipper and the Howells._

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><p><strong>Flipper and The Skipper<strong>

Jonas Grumby would not describe himself as an unhappy man. He'd be the last to admit that he ever suffered from bouts of depression. But there were times when he became introspective, mournful, and keen to be alone for a little while, if only for an hour or so, to collect his thoughts.

The Maritime Board had concluded that the wrecking of the _Minnow_ had not been his fault. If anything, the Coast Guard were guilty of gross negligence by giving out the wrong weather report. However, there were times when the Skipper would visit the spot on the beach where the _Minnow_ had spent her final days and stand where the helm used to be, letting the sand sift through his fingers and blow away on the breeze, still feeling responsible for her fate.

_My poor _Minnow_. Rest in peace, old girl._

_Or should that be in pieces_, he'd think, spying a chunk of her bow, or a plank from her stern, covered now with seaweed and small, scuttling crabs that had made what was left of her poor, broken body their home.

The Skipper sighed and looked out to sea. There was no doubting this was a beautiful island. The fresh, saltwater smell of the ocean as it dashed itself on the shore, the wheeling seabirds, the dazzling azure sky and the clouds that played above his head, changing shape constantly, chasing each other, melding together like long lost friends. The fine-grained sand, too hot to walk on with bare feet during the day, but cool and welcoming in the evening when the beach was perfect for sitting around a campfire and toasting chunks of coconut and pineapple. Sure, there were people in the big cities who'd pay premium rates for living on a paradise isle like this. Six months at home and six months here, the winter months maybe. The perfect life.

Wrongway Feldman wanted out of civilisation altogether, but the Skipper found he missed it. He missed the hustle and bustle of the marina. Talking to the other boat owners, idle chit-chat over a beer on deck as they watched the landlubbers go by.

Pretty girls. Lord, how he missed pretty girls! Thank goodness there were two of them here on the island, even if Mary Ann and Ginger had long ago ceased to be just a couple of pretty girls and had become firm and lasting friends, more like sisters now than anything else. Well, in Mary Ann's case maybe. The jury was still out on Ginger. Besides, his little buddy Gilligan had sort of claimed Mary Ann as his own, even if the boy would never admit it in a million years.

The Skipper smiled to himself. Gilligan would be highly indignant at the mere suggestion that he might just have himself a _girlfriend_ here on the island, having tried very hard in the last couple of years to give the impression he was a man and not just a boy. Unfortunately, Gilligan's idea of being a man involved scoffing at romance and acting as though he were above it all. But it was obvious, at least to the Skipper. Gilligan _liked_ Mary Ann and even though he acted as if he didn't care, the first mate had developed eyes in the back of his head where the young Kansas farm girl was concerned.

The Skipper sighed gustily, letting the last of the sand fall through his fingers._ Why do I always end up thinking about Gilligan? I can't even think about pretty girls without an image of what Gilligan's reaction would be._ How many times on a charter tour years ago had his little buddy fumbled a pretty girl's drink, or tripped over his own feet and ended up huddled below deck, stammering like a loon because a pretty girl had smiled at him? And now that a young woman genuinely liked him, he was too busy feigning disinterest in order to protect himself from heartache.

The Skipper grinned and shook his head, coming out of his dark mood. It was hard to stay gloomy thinking back over all the crazy things his little buddy had done over the years.

The Skipper ambled back along the beach to the start of the lagoon path and began wending his way inland. There were huge orange hibiscus flowers here, big as Mrs. Howell's teacup saucers, nodding their heads coquettishly. He brushed his fingertips across their fat stamens as he passed by, rubbing the yellow pollen between his fingers. Yes sir, it really was a beautiful island. He just wished sometimes there were more than seven people on it. And he smiled at that too- was he finally beginning to think of _this_ place as his home?

The calm, stillwater lagoon was surprisingly big, and the path curved around it, hugging the shore. The Skipper walked along for a few minutes, enjoying the sights and sounds, admiring the vibrant tropical flowers. There was a time when that's all he would have called them. Flowers. But thanks to the Professor, the Skipper could now tell a cheerful hibiscus from a heliconia (which he always knew of as the slightly less romantic Lobster Claw) and bright red and yellow anthuriums shaped like a heart with a yellow doohickey sticking out of the middle. Okay, so his flower knowledge was still pretty basic, but he was proud of it nonetheless.

He was admiring a particularly bright yellow hibiscus, which even he knew to be the State flower of Hawaii, when he heard a distinct and wholly unfamiliar noise. He let go of the hibiscus and looked up, puzzled. The noise seemed to have come from the lagoon. He stopped and cocked his head towards the water. He waited, but heard nothing more. Finally he resumed walking. _Must have been a bird flying by. A parrot, most likely. They can make the weirdest noises sometimes. _

He began to think about lunch. _Mary Ann will be preparing something to eat right about now_. A few moments passed and just as the Skipper thought he must have been imagining things, suddenly he heard the strange noise again. This time it was louder. A chattering, whistling, staccato sound, almost like laughing. The Skipper stopped again, frowning to himself. Was it a monkey? He'd never heard a monkey whistle.

The Skipper's face twisted into a slightly annoyed grimace. Maybe it was Gilligan. Gilligan made some pretty weird noises himself. Was Gilligan hiding in the bushes, ready to play a trick on him? He couldn't tell exactly where the sound was coming from, so he went over to the nearest coconut tree and began shaking it.

"Gilligan!" he shouted irritably, "If you're up there, I want you to come down right this minute! That's an order!"

With that he clutched the tree trunk with both hands and gave it one hard shake, enough to rustle its branches high above. He was rewarded with a coconut, which plummeted down and landed squarely on his foot. He shouted in pain and began hopping up and down on the other foot, clutching his poor throbbing tootsies. As he hopped around, biting back a mouthful of choice sailor's oaths, he happened to look out towards the center of the lagoon and saw what had been making the noise.

It was a dolphin, and a young one at that. It was standing half out of the water on its tail, laughing and chattering with its mouth wide open, sunlight gleaming off its sleek, wet skin. The Skipper's mouth fell open in wonder. They had never seen a dolphin in the lagoon in all three and a half years they'd been shipwrecked. He was speechless. Flabbergasted. He moved to the edge of the path, his sore toes forgotten. He parted the bushes and got as close to the water's edge as he could. The dolphin disappeared smoothly beneath the water, leaving nothing but ripples behind. The Skipper looked around, not knowing where the creature had gone. Within moments, the dolphin reappeared right in front of him, breaking soundlessly through the surface and blowing a spray of water directly into the Skipper's face. It seemed to wink at him. Then it swam off, laughing its high pitched chattering laugh, cheekily flicking its tail.

"Why, you little!" the Skipper protested, but soon he was laughing as well, laughing and wiping the saltwater off his face with his big meaty hands. The dolphin carried on disappearing and reappearing, swimming in a circle, sending up sprays of water that dazzled with rainbows as the sunlight winked and glinted through the fine, almost invisible droplets.

The Skipper suddenly knew why Gilligan got so freakishly excited when he saw things in the lagoon. This was a monumental discovery! Dolphins were intelligent beings! They were friendly and approachable. Maybe this one could finally get them rescued off the island!

The Skipper turned away from the lagoon and broke into a lumbering run. "Gilligaaaaaaaan!" he cried, ignoring the fact that he was becoming breathless already. "Professsoooorrr! _Gilligaaaaaan! Professssoooooorrrr_!"

He barrelled along the path, hearing the dolphin's chattering laugh echoing behind him. There was no time to waste! It could swim away at any moment!

"_Gilligaaaaan! Professooooorrr_!"

The Skipper hurtled off the path and into the clearing to be greeted with the sight of Gilligan sitting at the table happily plowing his way through a huge platter of fruit. Lost in his own little world, the first mate shovelled grapes and melon chunks into his mouth as the Skipper appeared like a big blue whirlwind, stopping just short of knocking the whole table over. The big man stood there red-faced and panting heavily, his big, beefy arms spread wide and palms smacking down hard onto the table top. Gilligan jumped and dropped his grapes. He stared back, his eyes as wide as dinner plates, his lips glistening with fruit juice.

Resisting the urge to slap Gilligan with his cap and tell him that the food he was munching his way through was meant for everybody, the Skipper took a moment to get his breath back and then started gabbling about his discovery. Alerted by the noise, the Professor and Mary Ann appeared, and then Ginger drifted over, and finally the Howells, not wanting to be left out of whatever was causing the disturbance in case there was some good gossip to be found.

"Slow down, Skipper," said the Professor, his tanned and handsome forehead creased by a thoughtful frown. "We can't understand you!"

The Skipper was annoyed that it was taking him so long to breathe normally, especially with everyone staring at him as though he were crazy. "A d...a d...a d...a dol...a dolph..." he panted.

"Adolph?" said Gilligan, peering up at the Professor. "Who's Adolph?"

"It better not be who I'm thinking it is," muttered Mr. Howell.

"_Really_, Thurston," said Mrs. Howell, with a look of stern disapproval.

"I was joking, my dear," her husband replied, patting her arm.

The Skipper shook his head, waving a hand in the air. "Not _Adolph_," he said finally. "Dolphin. A dolphin! There's _a dolphin_ in the lagoon!"

There were murmurs of _'a dolphin?_' all around the gathered group of castaways, followed by curious looks and puzzled frowns. Then the Professor spoke up, stroking his chin at the same time.

"Do you mean _delphinus delphis_?"

"No, he means dolphin," Gilligan said helpfully.

"Yes, Professor," the Skipper agreed, "I mean dolphin. A real, live dolphin, out there in the lagoon!"

Gilligan grinned smugly at the Professor. Meanwhile the Professor was starting to look enthusiastic at last.

"Why, it must have gotten lost from the pod," he said.

Gilligan stopped looking smug. His eyebrows raised. "Pod?" he repeated. "Dolphins come from pods?" He looked at Mary Ann. "I thought only peas came in pods. And pod people."

Mary Ann muffled a giggle behind her hand as the Professor carried on talking.

"A collective of dolphins is called a pod, Gilligan. They're sociable animals, always swimming in large family groups. This one must have become separated from the group."

"The pod," said Gilligan.

"You mean it's lost?" said the Skipper.

"Yes," replied the Professor. "If it's swimming around in the lagoon then it's probably lost."

"Like us," Gilligan said. "We're lost."

"Well, not quite like us," the Professor smiled. "It can easily rejoin the ocean if it can find its way out of the lagoon. We'd just have to show it the way."

"Well, that's what I was thinking, Professor," the Skipper said excitedly, his pulse rate back to normal at last. "Maybe we could train it to go and fetch help!"

The girls became excited themselves. Mary Ann clapped her hands together and laughed while Ginger closed her eyes and smiled seductively, her head once more filled with thoughts of Hollywood and stardom.

"Yeah, maybe we could train it to swim up to the nearest boat and tell them where we are!" Gilligan nodded, keeping his eyes on the Professor and pointedly ignoring the Skipper's hard stare.

"Dolphins can't actually talk, Gilligan, but we could certainly try to train it to bring a boat to us," the Professor mused.

"Maybe it could carry a sign around its neck," Gilligan suggested. "Like, '_HELP_!' or '_Sos'_!"

"Gilligan, would you stop calling it 'Sos'?" the Skipper said, tersely. "I keep telling you. It's _Ess Oh Ess_!"

Gilligan picked sulkily at the grapes until finally the Skipper yanked the platter away from his grasping fingers, which sent grapes bouncing across the table and onto the sand.

"Well, I think we should all go down to the lagoon right now and see this dolphin for ourselves," the Professor said, asserting himself as their unofficial leader, as he always did when firm decisions needed to be made.

"I agree!" said Mary Ann, asserting herself as someone who agreed.

To the sound of murmured consent from the other castaways, the Man of Science motioned for everyone to follow him and off they went. The Professor, with Mary Ann and Ginger right behind him, then the Howells, and finally Gilligan and the Skipper, engaged in one of their little fluster fests until the Skipper finally got behind his little buddy and manhandled him bodily onto the path.

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><p>At the lagoon, the seven castaways piled onto the beach and immediately made for the shoreline. The surface of the lagoon was calm and flat, rippled only now and then by a gentle breeze. There was no sign of a dolphin, or anything else. The little waterfall trickled and splashed. Ginger and Mary Ann shielded their eyes from the sun and looked out across the shimmering surface, while Gilligan ran excitedly along the path to see if he could spot anything from the other side.<p>

"Well, I must say this is very interesting," Mr. Howell muttered, sarcastically.

"What exactly are we looking for again?" asked Mrs. Howell, staring at the Skipper.

"A dolphin, Mrs. Howell," said the Skipper. "There was definitely a dolphin here!"

"And I'm Joan of Arc," the millionaire grumbled.

"I don't think I know what a dolphin looks like," Mrs. Howell admitted, fiddling with her pearls. She sounded a little distressed.

"Well, it looks like a big fish, Mrs. Howell. And it leaps up out of the water, like this." The Skipper arced his arm up and over and made a splashing sound with his voice. "And then it..." he stopped abruptly as every single castaway saw what happened next. The dolphin appeared in the middle of the lagoon and did exactly what the Skipper had just been describing. It leapt out of the water in a high arc and seemed to hover, frozen in midair, while the sun sparkled through the water that trailed from its sleek grey body before plunging back below the surface with a huge splash that caused dozens of small waves to ripple out and hit the shore, soaking the girls' feet and making them squeal with delight.

"My goodness!" Mrs. Howell declared, her hand flying to her mouth.

Meanwhile, further along the path, Gilligan started whooping and yelling, throwing his hat into the air.

"Did you see that! _Did you see that_!"

"Well, _Joan_," the Skipper said smugly to Mr. Howell, "did you see that?"

"An optical illusion," muttered Mr. Howell. "Caused by hunger."

"It's a dolphin, Mr. Howell. Just like I said."

"No-one likes a showoff," the millionaire retorted, sulking.

"Well, you were right, Skipper," said the Professor, just as Gilligan rejoined the group, his eyes wide, almost jumping up and down with boyish enthusiasm. "It does indeed appear to be a specimen from the genus _delphinus delphis."_

"Not only that," Gilligan said breathlessly, "it's a _dolphin_! A real, live dolphin!"

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><p><em>...to be continued<em>


	2. The Skipper

_Hiya! Thanks to everyone who reviewed chapter 1 so far, and of course Lilly, if you're reading this, thank you for all your reviews too because I can't reply to you through ffnet. It really means a lot to receive such helpful and encouraging feedback._

_Well, here goes with Chapter 2!_

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><p>The castaways watched, awestruck, as the acrobatic young dolphin broke the surface again and again, leaping high out of the water, twisting and turning in mid-air. Gilligan and the girls screamed with delight. Gilligan was practically in the lagoon, his sneakers drenched and his pants legs soaked right up to his knees, waving his arms, almost trembling with excitement as he shouted encouragement at the animal.<p>

Meanwhile, the Skipper and the Professor stood a little way back up the beach, attempting to discuss their prospects rationally.

"It certainly is a healthy looking specimen," the Professor said. "It's young and strong, and certainly capable of swimming for miles."

"Do you really think we could train it to go for help?" the Skipper said, growing excited.

"It's worth a try." The Professor smiled as he watched Ginger hitch up the hem of her gold gown so that she could run along the shore behind Mary Ann and Gilligan.

"Oh, Professor, imagine it! Rescue, at last! Why, we sailors have always considered dolphins to be good omens. Maybe there was a reason why the little fellow washed up in our lagoon!"

The Professor regarded his friend with a cocked eyebrow. "I imagine the reason was, he just got caught up in the incoming tide."

"But you never know, Professor." The Skipper jabbed his finger up at the sky and lowered his voice to an almost awe-struck whisper. "It could be a sign."

"You're not going to start getting all superstitious on me, are you, Skipper?"

"No. But you've got to admit, usually our visitors are people who want to trick us, or use us, or kidnap us, or even..." the Skipper pulled his forefinger across his throat and made a dramatic sound effect.

The Professor smiled wryly. "Yes. I suppose you do have a point. But I'd still hesitate to call it a 'sign'." He lowered his voice and jabbed his finger skywards in affectionate imitation of the Skipper.

The Skipper responded with a comically hopeful look which made the Professor laugh in spite of himself.

"Alright, Skipper. If it makes you feel better. It's a sign."

"Thank you for indulging me, Professor," the Skipper grinned.

They looked back towards the water where Gilligan was still running back and forth along the shore, shouting and yelling at the top of his lungs- and for a skinny fellow, he certainly had impressive lungs. Mrs. Howell was starting to look a little pained, her hands hovering delicately over her ears, and Mr. Howell had begun muttering about dying of starvation, and if he didn't get something to eat soon he was tempted to take a bite out of their new friend, who was nothing but an overgrown sardine.

"Excuse me, Professor," the Skipper said at last. "That noise is really starting to bother me." He left the man of Science standing further up the beach, stalked past the grumbling millionaire and approached the first mate cautiously.

"Gilligan, would you stop that..."

But Gilligan was neither listening nor looking at anything but the dolphin. He was running in a sort of sideways hop, like a crab doing star jumps at the same time, waving his skinny arms over his head, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

"Come on, Splashy! Over here, Splashy! Splashy, look at me! Splashy, over here! Splashy!" With his eyes fixed firmly on the leaping animal, Gilligan ran full tilt into the Skipper, whacking the big man with one of his flailing arms. The two of them fought together in a tangle of hands and elbows until the Skipper finally took hold of Gilligan's shoulders and thrust him out at arm's length.

"_Splashy?_" the big man said incredulously, red faced with exertion already.

"Yeah, that's what I named him," Gilligan said, his head snapping back towards the lagoon. "Splashy! Splashy!"

The Skipper couldn't help feeling mildly annoyed. "Will you shut up, Gilligan! Are you trying to break the sound barrier as well as everyone's eardrums? And besides, who said _you _could name him? I'm the one who found him!"

Gilligan stopped trying to break free and peered at the Skipper, sensing the change in the big man's mood. He went quiet immediately. "Oh. Okay, Skipper. You can name him."

The Skipper let go of Gilligan's shoulders and turned to the chattering dolphin who was now walking backwards on its tail across the lagoon to the delighted cries of the girls.

"Hooray for Splashy!" cried Mary Ann.

"Go, Splashy, go! Dance for us, Splashy!" Ginger wiggled her hips as she tried to emulate the dolphin's moves, momentarily distracting both the Skipper and even Gilligan, who began blinking.

The Skipper cleared his throat, tore his eyes away from the movie star and glared at the first mate, who at least had the grace to look embarrassed. "Well, it's too late for me to name it anything _now_."

"I'm sorry, Skipper." Gilligan looked genuinely contrite. "I just thought..."

"Oh, you _thought_? Well, you sure picked a fine time to start thinking!"

"Sorry, Skipper."

The Skipper sighed heavily. "It's all right, Gilligan, I guess." He watched the dolphin sink back beneath the waves and roll over, exposing its white underbelly, putting its flippers in the air. "It's just that, well, I might have wanted to call it something else, that's all."

Gilligan looked up. "Like what?"

The Skipper shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe...Bob."

"_Bob_?"

"What's wrong with Bob?" the Skipper said defensively. "I mean, look at the way it..._bobs _up and down in the water."

"Why don't you call it 'Float'? Look at the way it floats in the water. Or 'Swim'. Look at the way it swims in the water."

"Why don't you stop being a wise guy?" the Skipper grumbled, folding his arms across his huge chest.

The girls put an end to their little quarrel by cheering again as the dolphin blew a spout of water high into the air. The breeze carried the spray towards shore, showering them with droplets.

"Splashy splashed us!" cried Mary Ann.

"We love you, Splashy!" Ginger shouted. "You can be in my next movie with me! We can call it 'Splashy Saves The Day'!"

"Splashy," the Skipper muttered.

"Yeah, Splashy," said Gilligan, "'cause he's always splashing. Don't you like it?"

The Skipper watched the dolphin lift its tail and bring it down with a resounding smack, sending up a huge spray of water. "I guess he does splash a lot," he admitted.

"He sure does." With that, Gilligan ran off back to the shoreline to join the girls. "Splashy! Hey, Splashy! Over here, Splashy!"

"But I'm the one who found him!" the Skipper muttered under his breath, to no-one in particular. "_I _saw him first!"

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><p>At lunch, over platters piled high with steamed fish, mashed breadfruit and Mary Ann's sweet mango cobbler for dessert, all the castaways listened intently as the Professor outlined the beginnings of a plan.<p>

"What we need to do is first build a makeshift raft. Then we need one or two people to sit on the raft at a distance away in the lagoon. The rest of us will be on the shore. We need to somehow make the dolphin understand..."

"Splashy," said Gilligan.

"..._Splashy_ understand that we on the shore need help from the people on the raft. Splashy must learn to bring the people on the raft towards the people on the shore. Once he's made the connection, we can send the raft further and further out towards the mouth of the lagoon. Hopefully by the time he's learned to bring the raft back to the shore, he'll be ready to venture out into the wider ocean and keep swimming until he finds the next floating vessel with people on it and bring _them_ back to shore, and hopefully, to rescue us."

There was a hesitant silence broken only by the sounds of eating utensils scraping uncertainly across plates. Even Gilligan looked sceptical.

"What's the harm in trying?" the Professor said, a little agitated. He didn't like it when they doubted him. He was still convinced he came up with most of the best ideas.

"But Professor, it's just a fish," said Mrs. Howell at last. "What can a fish do?"

"It's a mammal, Mrs. Howell. A warm blooded, air breathing creature."

"Do you mind?" said Mr. Howell, leaning forward. "There are ladies present!"

"What's a mammal?" said Gilligan.

"What I just said," replied the Professor. "A warm blooded, air breathing creature."

"I say, Professor! That's quite enough!" said Mr. Howell, putting his hands over his smiling wife's ears. "Warm blooded, indeed."

"Dolphins are very intelligent animals," the Professor smiled. "You saw the way it responded to the sound of our voices just now. You can train a dolphin almost as easily as you can train a dog."

"Except you can't take it for for a walk," said Gilligan, grinning at his own joke.

"Well, I say it's worth a try," declared Ginger. "If I don't get back to Hollywood soon, that dolphin won't be the only thing that's all washed up!"

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><p>After lunch, the Professor set Gilligan to work on collecting materials for the new raft. Mary Ann offered to help, pointing out that she paid better attention to detail and had become adept at making sure all the bamboo poles were the right length and width. Gilligan countered by making a big show of protesting that she was a girl and unsuited to heavy work, but after teasing each other for a few minutes, the two of them skipped off quite happily together. Meanwhile, the Skipper wanted to go check on Splashy to make sure he was still there.<p>

At the lagoon, the young dolphin swam in lazy circles, blowing the occasional spray of water into the air with a soft hiss. The Skipper felt his heart soar as soon as he saw the animal. He ambled down to the shoreline, happy to be on his own at last without any interference from a certain someone in a red shirt and white hat.

When the dolphin saw him, it rolled over in the water and waved its flippers in the air.

The Skipper laughed and waved back. "Hey there, little fella. How are you?"

The dolphin swam eagerly to the shore. It seemed just as happy to see the Skipper and opened its toothy mouth to emit a series of high pitched squeaks and squeals.

"I know, this is a crazy island," the Skipper smiled. "With crazy people on it! But you know what? You're gonna help get us rescued! What do you make of that, huh?"

The dolphin nodded its head up and down, up and down. It swam closer, rolling on one side and fixing the Skipper with one gleaming eye, its curved mouth seeming to smile at him.

"Yes, that's right! We're going to teach you how to swim for help. H-E-L-P, 'help'. From a B-O-A-T, 'boat'." The Skipper felt vaguely silly talking to the dolphin as though it could understand him, but he had often seen it work for Gilligan. Then again, Gilligan was unique. Thank goodness.

"Splashy," the Skipper said, shaking his head. "How'd you like that name."

The dolphin clicked and chittered and nodded again.

"I don't see what's so wrong with 'Bob'."

The dolphin laughed.

"What do you think? Splashy or Bob?"

The dolphin flicked its tail up and brought it down with a huge splash, drenching the Skipper from his head to his feet. The big man stood there dripping water from his chin, spitting water out through compressed lips. He grinned and held his hands up, resigned.

"All right. All right. Splashy it is."

He ventured closer to the water and perched his copious backside on a large rock. Splashy swam as close as he could to the shore without beaching himself.

"So, little fella. What brings you here? You lost?"

Splashy said nothing, just continued to watch the Skipper through his intelligent little eye.

"We're lost," the Skipper continued. "We're far away from home, and we just want to go back."

Splashy made a low, mournful squeaking sound.

"Are you missing your Mommy?"

Splashy made the same low mournful sound.

"I guess I shouldn't talk about things like that, huh. I should be trying to cheer you up, not bring you down."

Splashy nodded, ducked underwater, then reappeared again, water streaming from his head. This time he looked at the Skipper with the other eye.

The Skipper leaned forward, elbows on his knees. He soon found himself talking easily to the dolphin. "We miss our families too, Splashy. But we're like a family ourselves, now. Not that it's always been easy. Gilligan drives me nuts most days. I'm sure he'll end up driving you nuts, too. There's just no getting away from him here! At least in Hawaii I got weekends off. I had to drive up into the mountains to get away from him sometimes." The Skipper sighed and shook his head. "But even then, I'd get halfway through Saturday, and wouldn't you know it, I'd start missing the guy. I'd wonder what he was doing. He tended to hang out at the marina a lot, even on his days off. And every Monday morning, there he'd be, waiting on the dock, all happy and cheerful and ready for the week ahead. I could never stay mad at him for long. He's stuck with me through thick and thin, and that's something you can't say for most people nowadays."

Splashy chuckled. The Skipper chuckled too, astonished. It really was as though Splashy could understand every word he was being told.

"I guess you could say Gilligan's the closest thing to a brother I've ever had. It doesn't annoy me quite so much if I look at it that way. In fact, we're closer than a lot of real brothers." The Skipper's shoulders slumped. "Unfortunately!"

Splashy gave another chuckle, and then dove under the water and began swimming around again, heading out towards the center of the lagoon.

The Skipper sat on the rock for a while longer, feeling the clothes drying on his back under the early afternoon sun. There was something intensely calming about watching the dolphin glide around the lagoon. The surface of the water undulated as the creature passed underneath, lifting it in gentle waves which rippled out in all directions, catching rays of sunlight that dazzled the Skipper and made him blink.

How quiet it was right now. He couldn't hear anything but the gentle murmur of the water and the sounds of distant birds. Why, he could quite happily take a little nap. It wouldn't do, of course, not while he knew the others were working- well, with the exception of the Howells. But how easy it would be to let the easy movements of the dolphin lull him into a gentle slumber.

As he sat on the warm rock and felt his eyes grow heavier, the Skipper realised that he hadn't felt this relaxed in a very, very long time. Eventually he gave in, and let his eyelids close.

* * *

><p>"Do you think the Skipper was mad at me today?" asked Gilligan, as he and Mary Ann gathered thick stalks of bamboo to make their newest raft.<p>

"Why ever would you think that, Gilligan?" Mary Ann asked, curiously. She stood well out of the way while Gilligan brandished the machete. She liked the fact that all her limbs were attached to her body and wanted to keep it that way.

"Well, because I named the dolphin Splashy, and he wanted to name it..." Gilligan looked at Mary Ann sceptically, "...Bob."

Mary Ann giggled. "He did?"

"Uh-huh." Gilligan selected a strong looking stalk of bamboo and after pushing and pulling it to check its sturdiness, took a wild swing with the machete and chopped haphazardly into it. "Splashy's a better name though. Don't you think?"

Mary Ann watched him hack through the bamboo, his tongue poking out in studious concentration.

"I do," she said, admiring the back of his neck.

After a few more chops the stalk of bamboo creaked, groaned and toppled to the ground. Gilligan hefted it up, piling it on top of all the others he'd cut since lunch time.

"Do you think that's enough?" he asked, removing his hat and wiping perspiration from his brow.

"I do," Mary Ann said again.

Gilligan looked across at her, his sweaty hair stuck up at angles, before replacing his hat on his head. "Mary Ann, don't keep saying 'I do'. You sound like you're getting married."

Mary Ann put her hand to her mouth and giggled. "I do?"

Gilligan sheathed the machete and folded his arms across his chest, fixing her with a stern look. "Yes, you do."

"Maybe I'm practising," she beamed.

"Well, don't practise on me," he grumbled.

"I wouldn't dream of it," she flashed her most innocent toothy smile.

They headed back to camp, pulling as much bamboo as they could on a little wooden cart they'd built for just such a purpose. The cart wheels bumped over stones and into holes while Gilligan struggled to keep it on track without tipping it over and dumping the poles all over the ground. Mary Ann walked ahead and helped him by moving larger obstacles like fallen palm fronds out of the way.

"So you want to go swimming with Splashy later?" Gilligan said.

"Swimming with Splashy?"

"Yeah. I bet he'd love it. He looks like he wants someone to play with."

Mary Ann appeared nervous. "Ooh, I don't know, Gilligan. He's cute and everything, but he's a wild animal!"

Gilligan looked at her sidelong. "Scared?"

"Scared? Me? No, of course I'm not scared! What do you take me for?" Mary Ann put her hands on her hips and glared at him.

"Well, then. Want to? Come on, Mary Ann. I dare you. Besides, we've worked hard today. I'm so hot I might explode!"

Mary Ann sighed. She hated it when Gilligan dared her. Not least because he was so unrelenting. She didn't much relish the thought of him exploding, either.

"All right. But promise me it'll be fun, Gilligan?"

"I _promise_ it'll be fun, Mary Ann. Scout's Honour." Gilligan held up three fingers and rewarded her with his broadest, most endearing grin which made his blue eyes shine and gave him dimples. Sometimes Mary Ann thought it was worth giving in to his dares just to see that amazing smile. She laughed at him and shook her head, and returned to clearing the untidy path in front while he bumped the little cart along behind.

* * *

><p>The Skipper drifted slowly back to consciousness. He had somehow slid off the rock and was now sitting slumped on the sand with his back against it, his chin on his chest and his legs spread out before him. He opened his eyes and then immediately shut them again, wincing at the painful glare of the sun bouncing off the water.<p>

How long had he been asleep? He checked his watch. Almost 50 minutes! Preposterous!

He opened his eyes, squinted, and looked out across the lagoon. Splashy was still swimming and splashing, but now the creature wasn't alone. Gilligan and Mary Ann were in the water and Splashy was swimming in circles around them, making cheerful, happy clicks and squeaks.

The Skipper scrambled to his feet. He rubbed at his tired eyes, inadvertently getting sand in them. Muttering and cursing, he lifted the hem of his shirt to his face, half wishing he could go back to sleep, where he was sure he'd been having a dream about a beautiful mermaid. Why did Gilligan always have to ruin everything?

He staggered grumpily down the beach. He had to tell himself that it wasn't Gilligan's fault. They were all excited about the dolphin. Gilligan was just being his usual crazy self.

"Hey, Skipper's awake!" cried Gilligan from the middle of the lagoon.

"Hi, Skipper!" Mary Ann paddled towards him, looking perky in her black bathing suit and swimming cap. "We tried to be quiet so we wouldn't wake you!"

"It's okay, Mary Ann, I really wasn't meant to be sleeping anyway."

"Why don't you join us in the water?"

The Skipper waved his hand, embarrassed. "Oh, no. I couldn't possibly."

"Why not? Splashy's friendly. Oh, come on, Skipper! He'll just think you're another dolphin."

"Yeah," said Gilligan, swimming over. "A big, fat dolphin. Or a whale."

"Thank you, Gilligan," the Skipper grunted. "You sure know how to make a guy feel good about himself."

"Splashy doesn't care," Gilligan went on. "He just wants to play. Don't you, Splashy?"

The dolphin swam alongside the first mate, nodding and chattering.

"Watch this, Skipper," said Gilligan. He slid the flat of his hand along the dolphin's flank and curled his long fingers around the edge of its dorsal fin. "Okay, Splashy?"

"What's he doing?" The Skipper asked Mary Ann.

"Just watch!" said Mary Ann, breathlessly.

With Gilligan holding firmly to its fin, the dolphin began swimming. Slowly at first, then faster and faster, until it was towing Gilligan around the lagoon like an underwater bullet while the first mate streaked across the surface, whooping and hollering.

"Isn't it amazing?" Mary Ann cried. "I don't know how he does it! Any normal person would be terrified!"

"You said it, Mary Ann. Any normal person would be terrified. Luckily we know Gilligan's not normal."

"Oh, he's fine, Skipper," Mary Ann laughed. "This is the third time he's done it."

"The third?" Skipper blinked. "Was I really that fast asleep?"

"Uh-huh," Mary Ann smiled, her eyes still glued to Gilligan. "You were so fast asleep you were snoring."

The Skipper felt the blush of embarrassment rising up his neck. He was about to start apologising when his little buddy let out a loud yell. The dolphin had towed him under the waterfall and back out the other side where he re-emerged, shaking the water out of his hair, laughing like a lunatic.

Mary Ann clapped her hands, delighted at her friend's antics. "Come on, Skipper. Join us for a swim! Besides, the water's so cool and refreshing."

"No, it's okay, Mary Ann. I think I'll go see how the Professor's coming along with his plans."

Mary Ann gave him a sad look. "Well, okay. But if you change your mind?"

"Sure, Mary Ann." The Skipper smiled, but he knew he wouldn't. He dusted the sand off his pants and threw one last glance at Gilligan before starting back up the beach.

Splashy and Gilligan returned to Mary Ann and Gilligan let go of the dorsal fin, gliding to a smooth halt right in front of the young woman.

"Ta daa! Not bad, huh?" he grinned. Then he saw the Skipper heading away from them. "Hey, where's Skipper going? Skipper, hey, Skipper! Where are you going?"

"Back to the huts," the Skipper said. "You three are enjoying yourselves so much, I just thought..."

Gilligan sank down in the water up to his chin. "I did it again, didn't I?"

"Did what?" asked Mary Ann.

"Well, the Skipper's the one who found Splashy, and I just keep getting in the way."

Mary Ann looked puzzled. "Oh, but I'm sure the Skipper doesn't see it like that!"

"Wanna bet?"

The Skipper did indeed look thoroughly dejected, staring back at them from the top of the beach.

Then Splashy began to squeak loudly. He swam away from Gilligan and raised himself up on his tail, wiggling backwards across the water, looking straight at the Skipper, almost agitated in his behaviour.

"See, Skipper? Splashy doesn't want you to go, either!"

The Skipper felt his heart soar once more. It really did appear that the animal was looking right at him, calling for him to come play. It struck him that it had also been a long time since anything or anyone had been this enthusiastic to see him. The Skipper had always loved meeting new people, experiencing new pleasures, welcoming new faces aboard the Minnow. He had always needed his days to be filled with newness. And now here was something new, something he'd never experienced before, and he was walking away from it.

_Pull yourself together, Grumby! _His conscience spoke loudly, rattling the inside of his head. _You're far from finished. So you lost a boat. Sure, the loss of any vessel is a tragedy. But no-one died, and it wasn't your fault. How long are you going to keep harbouring this silly guilt? How long are you going to keep avoiding the 'now' in favour of the 'what might have been'?_

There was now a cacophony of noise coming from the lagoon. Gilligan and Mary Ann had joined in with Splashy and were now chanting "Skipp-er! Skipp-er! Skipp-er!" and smacking their hands down on the surface of the water.

"Oh, but I'm not dressed for swimming!" the Skipper protested.

"So, go get dressed for swimming!" Gilligan shouted, before resuming his chanting. "Skipp-er! Skipp-er! Skipp-er!"

The Skipper finally gave in. He laughed out loud. "Oh, all _right,_ you win!"

Gilligan and Mary Ann burst into spontaneous applause and Splashy danced on his tail and wiggled his whole body with joy.

"Stay there!" the Skipper grinned. "I'll be right back!"

The Professor was standing at the bamboo table sketching out some plans when the Skipper came running into camp, breathless and excited.

"Hey, Professor, you'll never guess what!" The big man could hardly contain his excitement.

The Professor looked up, wondering what on earth had gotten into the man, who was bouncing around on the balls of his feet and acting more like Gilligan than the captain of a ship. "The Martians have landed?" he ventured.

"No! Besides, the Martians are yesterday's news. Something way more exciting! _I'm going swimming with Splashy_!" With that, the Skipper broke into an almost dancing run, kicking up clouds of sand as he dashed off to his hut to get changed into his swimming shorts, all the while singing, "I'm going swimming with Splashy! I'm going swimming with Splashy!"

The Professor stared after him in bemusement, scratching the back of his neck. "I believe the poor man must have heatstroke," he chuckled, before removing the pencil from behind his ear and returning his attentions to his plans.

* * *

><p><em>to be continued...<em>


	3. Training

_Message from me to Reality. "Please go away and leave me in my little bubble so I can write Gilligan's Island fanfiction forever. K 'bye!"_

_Message from me to Courtney and Heather. "I really, really love you two and that's not even the beginning of it."_

_Okay, where was I? Oh yes- Flipper and the Skipper chapter 3. I hope everyone enjoys, and thanks so much for reading. Please hit that little review button- it would mean the world to me. Thank you and Splashy dolphin kisses. xxx_

* * *

><p>"We sure had fun swimming with Splashy today, didn't we, Skipper?"<p>

Gilligan and the Skipper were lying in their hammocks. The Skipper was exhausted and ready for sleep, but Gilligan, as usual, was wide awake.

"We sure did, Gilligan. Now go to sleep," the Skipper hinted.

There was a pause while Gilligan tried to be quiet, but it didn't last long.

"Splashy loves towing people around the lagoon, doesn't he, Skipper?"

The Skipper sighed. "He loves towing _you _around the lagoon, Gilligan."

"Yeah," came the voice from above. "He had a little trouble towing you, didn't he? Maybe next time it'd be easier if you towed _him_."

The Skipper lifted his arm and poked Gilligan in the back. "I told you to go to sleep."

"Ow," said Gilligan. "Anyway, I think Splashy really likes you, Skipper. You can tell."

The Skipper looked up at the dark shape above him. Now this was something he'd like to hear more about! Of course Gilligan would pick this exact moment to decide to stop talking and go to sleep. Eventually the Skipper got impatient and poked the first mate again.

"Ow, Skipper, stop poking me!"

The Skipper ignored him. "How can you tell he really likes me, Gilligan?"

Gilligan sighed and rolled onto his side, peering over the edge of his hammock. His hat was askew and his hair was all untidy and sticking up. "Because you can see it in his eyes. He really likes you. Maybe he thinks you're his big daddy dolphin or something."

"I'm sure he doesn't think that," the Skipper chortled, but secretly he was thrilled.

"Also," Gilligan went on, "he always swims to you first. Even Mary Ann said so. She thinks it's the cutest thing she ever saw."

The Skipper felt himself blushing. "Well, I guess I do have a certain kind of fondness for the little guy," he said. "It's been a long time since I owned a pet."

"He's not a pet, though, Skipper," Gilligan said. "We're gonna train him to go get help, remember? The Professor said we need to train him to swim back out into the ocean and find a boat. Remember, Skipper?"

The Skipper felt himself deflate almost immediately. Gilligan always seemed to give with one hand and take away with the other. But it was true. Splashy would soon be gone again.

"Yes, Gilligan. I remember." He couldn't keep the sadness out of his voice.

"Well, goodnight then, Skipper. Sweet dreams." The first mate rolled onto his back and pulled the blanket up to his chin. In seconds he was snoring, leaving the Skipper staring up at his sleeping form, wishing that Splashy could stay with them forever.

* * *

><p>The next morning after breakfast, Gilligan and the Professor began building the raft. The Skipper ambled down to the lagoon with some leftover fish for Splashy. As soon as the little dolphin saw him, he stood up on his tail and squeaked excitedly, then did a few barrel rolls and squirted water through his teeth. The Skipper laughed at his antics, and settled himself on the rock, leaning forward to feed Splashy the bits of breakfast he'd saved. As he fed the dolphin, he remembered Gilligan's wiseguy remark at the table.<p>

"Gee, Skipper, you must really love Splashy if you're saving him some of your breakfast!"

But as the little dolphin happily ate what the Skipper gave him, the Skipper realised he'd have given Splashy all of his breakfast if he needed it.

The dolphin clicked and squeaked his thanks as Skipper leaned back and wiped his hands along his pants leg.

"Well, Splashy, today's the day we begin your training, little fella."

Splashy fixed him with a beady eye.

"That's right. We need you to go find help to get us off this island." The Skipper took a moment to glance briefly around at the swaying coconut trees, the hazy morning sky, and to smell the salt in the air. "I know it's hard to believe, but we don't want to live here. We want to go home, to Hawaii. Where there are lots of other people like us. Our friends and our families and our real homes, where we really live."

Splashy made his little mournful whistle.

"I'm sure it'll be easy for you to find a boat to come rescue us. You're a brave little guy and a real strong swimmer. And when you find a boat and bring it back, then you can stay!" The Skipper grinned at the dolphin, but suddenly realised what rescue meant. "But then..._we'll_ be gone."

The dolphin whistled sadly again. The Skipper put his hand out and stroked the end of Splashy's snout. "I know! You could follow us back to Hawaii," he said. "Then you could live in the marina. Everyone would love you!"

Splashy ducked his head under the water, came back up and sprayed the Skipper with water from his blowhole. Then he whistled and laughed, which made the Skipper laugh too, even though he was soaked from his hat to the middle of his chest.

"Maybe we should have named you Gilligan Mark II!" he chuckled.

* * *

><p>After lunch, the castaways carried the new raft down to the lagoon and set it on the shoreline, half in and half out of the water. Splashy swam in curious circles, chattering to himself.<p>

The raft was big and surprisingly sturdy. The castaways had built some rafts in their years on the island and each time the rafts improved. But they still weren't safe enough to attempt a trip out into the wide open ocean. No matter how many of their visitors had come to the island and managed to leave again, the Professor had always said that he wasn't going to trust any more of their homemade rafts to stay afloat- not after Gilligan and the Skipper had almost been eaten by sharks.

The rafts were good for the lagoon though, and with a loud "heave ho!" the raft was sent into the water with Gilligan and the Skipper aboard while the rest of the castaways cheered from the shore.

"Now, you remember my instructions!" the Professor called.

"Yes, Professor! You send him to us, we reward him with fish, then he brings us back to you!" The Skipper put one hand on the bucket of fish and gave the Professor a mock salute with the other.

"That's right. No getting distracted. No playing with him, Gilligan. That means you!"

"Aye aye, Professor!" cried Gilligan, who was standing up and pushing the raft out further with a long pole. As he gave the Professor a mock salute too, he lost his balance and almost kicked the bucket of fish into the lagoon.

"Whoops," he said, apologetically.

"Gilligan! Would you behave yourself!" the Skipper shouted.

"Sorry, Skipper." Gilligan regained his footing and gave the Skipper an embarrassed sideways glance.

"Honestly, Gilligan, if you mess up _this_ rescue attempt, there'll only be _six _of us left when help finally comes!"

Gilligan muttered something behind the Skipper's back but was soon back to his cheerful self as the raft headed further out into the lagoon. They soon realised that Splashy was following them without any encouragement.

"It's because of you, Skipper. He likes being with you," said Gilligan.

"Reward him with a fish!" The Professor called from the beach.

The Skipper fumbled in the bucket and pulled out a small fish, and Splashy bobbed his head out of the water to take it, squeaking gratefully.

"Go on, Splashy, back to shore," the Skipper said, pointing towards the Professor and the other castaways.

The dolphin stayed where he was, chattering and smiling at the Skipper.

Gilligan pulled out another small fish and Splashy took it happily.

"Go on, Splashy! Back to shore!"

Splashy stayed where he was, bobbing up and down in the water.

"I don't think he understands," the Skipper muttered.

Gilligan delved into the bucket. He threw Splashy a fish, then another, and another, and another, until the Skipper finally pulled the bucket out of reach and slapped Gilligan with his cap.

"Gilligan, what are you doing? He'll never head back to shore if you keep feeding him fish!"

"The Professor said to reward him!"

"I'll reward _you _in a minute," the Skipper muttered. "With a nice, refreshing dip in the lagoon!"

The girls began calling to the dolphin. "Splashy! Splashy! Over here, Splashy!"

"I'm afraid that with the Skipper on the raft, the dolphin is going to stay there too," the Professor mused. "Perhaps it would be better if he was on the shore, and I was on the raft."

"But surely then he wouldn't leave the shore?" said Mr. Howell.

"That's a possibility too," said the Professor, "but we'll try it anyway." He called to the raft and instructed the Skipper and Gilligan to bring it back. As they returned to the shore Splashy followed them, swimming alongside and peering up at the Skipper all the way.

"I'm sorry, Professor," said the Skipper, "but Lloyd Bridges here kept giving him all the fish!"

"It's not that," said the Professor, saving Gilligan from a full on pout. "It's because you were on the raft, Skipper. He had no reason to come back to us. We'll try it with me on the raft this time."

Gilligan held out the almost empty bucket. "We need more fish," he said, meekly.

Once the raft was back out in the middle of the lagoon with a refilled bucket and the Professor on board with Gilligan, they began again. As predicted, Splashy floated around near the Skipper while the Skipper pointed at the raft and told Splashy to go find the boat.

"Go find the boat, Splashy! Go find the boat!"

On board the raft, Gilligan and the Professor watched the dolphin as it swam around, squeaking at the Skipper.

"It's astounding how that animal has become so attached to the Skipper," said the Professor.

"I told the Skipper it's because he looks like a big daddy dolphin," Gilligan said. He was sitting cross legged, holding onto the bucket with both hands. "Big shiny face, little beady eyes and always spouting off."

The Professor gave Gilligan one of his raised-eyebrow looks. "I hope you didn't say all that."

"No, just the first bit," Gilligan grinned. Then, without warning, the first mate raised his voice to ear-splitting level and yelled across the lagoon. "Splashyyyyy! Hey Splashyyyyy! Over here, Splashyyyyy!"

The Professor winced and put his hand over the ear nearest to Gilligan. "Gilligan, while I can't fault your enthusiasm, does it have to be so _loud_?"

"Here, I'll wave a fish," Gilligan said. He plucked a medium sized fish out of the bucket and began waving it, spraying the Professor with smelly fish water. "Splashyyyyy! Over here, Splashyyyyy! Come and get a nice fishyyyyy!"

Finally the dolphin turned away from the shore and looked out at the raft.

"Oh, Skipper, look! I think he's finally getting the message," said Mary Ann excitedly. "Keep going, Gilligan! I think he heard you!"

Encouraged, Gilligan began yelling even louder. The Professor sat there with his head in his hands until even he could see that the dolphin was being lured by the relentless noise.

"Gilligan! I think it's working!" he said, unable to hide the relief in his voice. He patted Gilligan's shoulder and began to shout himself. Soon both the Professor and Gilligan were yelling at the top of their lungs until finally the little dolphin appeared in front of them and spied the fish that Gilligan was holding.

"Here you go, little fella." Gilligan threw him the fish, and the two castaways grinned at each other.

"Nice going, Gilligan," the Professor said, holding out his hand.

"Thanks, Professor," Gilligan replied, taking the Professor's hand and shaking it manfully.

"Now, getting him back to shore. That shouldn't be too difficult, with the Skipper there. Okay Skipper! Call him back!"

The Skipper began calling to the dolphin while Ginger and Mary Ann crossed their fingers and the Howells, who had retired to their sun loungers with drinks to watch the proceedings, talked quietly to each other.

"Gilligan really does make an awful racket," Mrs. Howell said, fanning herself.

"Yes," said her husband. "Perhaps he was a town crier in a former life."

"Well in that case, he's two town criers in this life."

"Lovey! You made a witty!"

"Yes, I did, didn't I?" Mrs. Howell smiled, looking ever so pleased with herself.

The Skipper called to the dolphin, and Gilligan and the Professor gestured shorewards. At last the dolphin seemed to get the message and turned away from the raft.

"Aren't we meant to be following him?" asked Gilligan.

"Oh, my goodness, yes, of course!" the Professor said, startled. "Come on Gilligan, take us in!"

With everyone on the shore cheering, Splashy led the raft back to the beach and was rewarded with another fish.

"Well, I'd say that was a success, Skipper. Wouldn't you?"

"I sure would, Professor!" the Skipper grinned.

"Gilligan, you were wonderful!" cried Mary Ann, making the first mate's ears go bright red.

"I didn't do anything," he mumbled, almost shying away, but not quite, from an enthusiastic Mary Ann hug.

"You gave me a headache," the Professor laughed, then slapped the first mate on the back. "I'm just kidding."

They repeated the experiment five more times as the afternoon wore on. As Mr. and Mrs. Howell gently dozed, Splashy swam out to the raft, accepted his fishy reward, then turned and led the raft back to shore. Each time the castaways cheered and made a fuss of him until the little dolphin danced around the lagoon on his tail, knowing that he was doing something that made them love him even more.

"Of course, this is all very well in the lagoon where it's like a game to him," the Professor smiled. "The real test will be sending him out to sea."

"But how will we do that?" asked the Skipper.

"We'll send the raft further and further towards the mouth of the lagoon. Way out around the bend so that he can't see it from shore and he has to swim further to find it. We'll do that a few times, and then one day the raft won't be there and he'll just carry on swimming."

When the Professor stopped speaking, there was a heavy silence. The girls looked at each other. Mary Ann looked at Gilligan. Gilligan looked at the Skipper. The Skipper swallowed past a sudden lump in his throat.

"My poor little buddy."

Gilligan pursed his lips. "I'm your little buddy, Skipper!"

"My poor _other_ little buddy," the Skipper corrected, staring sadly at the dolphin.

"The ocean is where he was born, Skipper," the Professor said gently. "It's where he really ought to be."

The Skipper sighed heavily. "I know that, Professor. But it's such a huge ocean, and the chances of him finding a boat..."

"Are quite good," the Professor said, laying a hand on the Skipper's shoulder. "There are plenty of boats out there in the shipping lanes."

"What if he finds his family and stops looking for boats?" said Mary Ann.

"That's a possibility too," said the Professor. "But like I said, it's worth a try."

"What if he finds his family and brings them all back here?" said Gilligan.

"Gilligan, would you stop talking nonsense?" the Skipper muttered.

"I think that would be pretty neat," the first mate said with a shrug.

"The main thing is, we know that Splashy has made the connection. When he finds a boat, the people on board are bound to throw him some fish, and then he will lead them back to us."

"What if he finds an oil tanker?" Gilligan said. "They'll never fit _that _in the lagoon."

"Gilligan!" the Skipper shouted, and whacked the first mate with his cap.

* * *

><p>That night, in their hammocks, the Skipper prodded Gilligan in the back.<p>

"Skipperrr! Stop poking me!" the first mate whined.

"I'm sorry Gilligan. I just wanted to apologise for getting sore at you this afternoon. I didn't mean to. I'm just worried about poor Splashy."

Gilligan leaned over the side of the hammock. "You think he'll get lost out there in the ocean?"

"Yeah. I keep having visions of him starving to death or being attacked by sharks."

"Or giant octopuses," Gilligan nodded. "Or giant squids, or giant sea monsters, or giant..."

"Gilligan! You're not helping," the Skipper grunted.

"Sorry, Skipper. But like the Professor said, the ocean is where he belongs. After all, he was out there for a long time before he ended up in our lagoon."

"I know, Gilligan. But since I met him, I've started to think of him as one of us. It's not fair to use him just to suit our own purposes."

"You mean to suit our own porpoises," Gilligan giggled.

"Very funny, Gilligan. But listen to me seriously for once, would you mind doing that? Just for once?"

"Sorry, Skipper. I understand what you're saying. Really, I do."

"That'd be a first," the Skipper muttered.

"Skipper, everything will be fine, you'll see. Remember my idea to hang a sign round Splashy's neck saying Sos? The Professor still thinks that might be a good idea."

"I'd like to hang a sign round your neck, Gilligan. One saying 'Danger: Faulty Equipment'."

Gilligan grinned at the big man in the lower sack. "Don't worry about Splashy, Skipper. Everything will work out fine. You'll see."

"I know you're only trying to reassure me, Gilligan," the Skipper said, "and I do appreciate it. But I just can't stop thinking about my poor little...my poor_ other _little buddy."

"Get some sleep, Skipper. You'll feel better about it in the morning."

"I sure hope so, little buddy. I sure hope so."

Within seconds Gilligan had rolled over and was snoring again, and the Skipper was left alone with his thoughts which kept drifting to giant sea monsters and octopuses, no matter how hard he tried to stop them.

* * *

><p><em>to be continued...<em>


	4. Kisses

_The dolphin kisses in Chapter 4 are dedicated to JWood201, who came up with the idea to have Gilligan teach Splashy to kiss Mary Ann because he was too scared to. :)_

_As always, the whole story is for everyone who is reading and enjoying and encouraging me with positive feedback. Thank you. You rock!_

* * *

><p>"So let me get this straight," said the Skipper, walking down to the lagoon alongside the Professor. "Splashy is going to head out to sea and bring back a boat, even though all we've taught him to do is swim from the shore to the raft and eat fish while Gilligan yells like a foghorn."<p>

The Professor glanced sidelong at his friend. "I always said it would be a long shot," he smiled.

"It's not just a long shot, it's almost impossible to believe my little buddy would go for that."

"Which little buddy?" The Professor grinned.

"The one with a blowhole," the Skipper replied, then chuckled loudly. "Or should I say, the one with brains!"

They were both still chuckling when they came off the lagoon path onto the beach to find the lagoon crowded with bodies, both animal and human. Gilligan, Mary Ann and Ginger were all in the water, laughing and shrieking while Splashy performed tricks around them, enjoying all the attention.

"What the...?" the Skipper blurted.

"Oh, no," the Professor sighed. "I told them not to play with him so much. He's got training to do!"

But the Skipper was already lumbering down to the shore, excited by the antics of his dolphin friend.

The younger castaways were having the time of their lives. Gilligan was once again holding onto Splashy's dorsal fin, being towed around the lagoon while the girls clapped their hands in delight.

"Isn't he brave?" said Mary Ann, her eyes shining with what the Skipper could only call 'love' for her friend as he whooped and yelled his way through the water. And Gilligan himself was becoming more tanned and healthier looking by the day, his thick, dark hair gleaming wetly like the sleek pelt of an otter. There were times when the Skipper wondered what the girls who had laughed at him in school would make of him if they saw him now. He was becoming a regular goodlooking island boy.

Splashy coasted to a halt in front of the girls and Gilligan let go of the fin, ducking under the water and coming up right behind Mary Ann, surprising her and making her squeal.

"Look what I taught Splashy to do," he grinned at the Skipper. "Splashy, give Mary Ann a kiss!"

The dolphin gave a series of loud squeaks, then swam obediently across to Mary Ann. Mary Ann squeezed her eyes shut, her hands clasped nervously together, and offered the side of her face to Splashy, who touched her cheek gently with the end of his smooth rounded snout. After the dolphin 'kissed' her, she then kissed him back by touching her lips with her fingers and placing them just as gently on his shiny head. Meanwhile Gilligan watched the entire proceedings with a look of pride and- something else- on his face.

_I've got you figured, little buddy,_ the Skipper thought with a smile. _You got Splashy to kiss Mary Ann because you're too shy to do it yourself._

"Isn't that amazing?" said Ginger.

"Go on, Splashy, kiss Ginger too," said Gilligan, because he was a fair player and didn't like to see anyone left out.

Ginger laughed as Splashy did the same to her. "What a gentleman!" she said. "I know a few men who could learn something about manners from you, Splashy!" And she wound her arms lovingly around the dolphin's head while Gilligan pulled a face and murmured to Mary Ann.

"He needs a tree to knock himself out on."

The Professor now stood on the shore, determined to get going with the day's training. As soon as he spoke he was met with a chorus of good-natured boos, even from Ginger, who managed to flirt spectacularly with him at the same time, flicking water onto his crisp beige pants that were freshly pressed with a nice straight crease down the middle of each leg.

"Look," The Professor said, folding his arms across his chest and tucking his hands under each arm. "Do you want to be rescued or not? Ginger, Hollywood's waiting, remember? They won't want an actress saturated with so much water that she looks like a prune!"

That got the movie star out of the water faster than if a swarm of jellyfish had suddenly arrived. Ginger pulled herself out of the lagoon and sashayed seductively past the Professor in her leopard skin bikini while he watched with an expression of quiet amusement. Then she stood right next to him and shook her wet hair over him, laughing as a million drops of water dappled his clean blue shirt.

Gilligan and Mary Ann came out of the water a few moments later. Skipper noticed the first mate's arm hovering close behind the girl as though he wanted more than anything to put his arm around her waist but was too scared to, and was just holding it there in case she suddenly stumbled.

_One day they'll get their act together and admit how they feel about each other,_ he thought. _Perhaps in time for the next Ice Age!_

Once everyone was out of the water, they fetched the raft which was lying further up the beach and pushed it into the lagoon and got the day's training under way at last.

Splashy knew immediately what was required of him. He spent the next few hours swimming obediently from the people on the shore (Skipper, Ginger and Mary Ann) to the people on the raft (the Professor and Gilligan) who fed him a fish and then followed him back to shore. Each time the dolphin completed his task, the two raftsmen paddled further and further away, until finally they were way out near the bend which angled off to the right and wound its way through the south of the island until it met the open ocean.

"I still don't see how this is going to work," muttered the Skipper as he watched Gilligan push the raft with the pole until they were almost out of view.

"It's another one of the Professor's crazy ideas," Mary Ann admitted.

"Anything's worth a try," Ginger pouted. "I don't want to get back to Hollywood to find the only jobs open for me are prune juice commercials!"

The Howells, meanwhile, had finally drifted down to the beach for the day's entertainment.

"Any sign of a ship so far?" the millionaire chuckled, waving his huge bamboo cup at the Skipper.

"Yes, Mr. Howell, the Queen Mary will be along any minute," the Skipper replied sarcastically. "We've reserved two spaces for you at the Captain's table for luncheon."

"Top ho!" replied Mr. Howell, annoying the Skipper by going along with him.

"If all goes well," said Mary Ann, "Splashy will soon be out in the open sea and heading for the shipping lanes!"

"Or straight for a shark's mouth," Mr. Howell chortled.

"Mr. Howell, did you _have_ to say that?" The Skipper said, sharply enough to cut off the millionaire's laughter mid flow while the girls shuffled nervously from foot to foot.

"I'm sorry, old boy," Mr. Howell began, but the Skipper cut him off again.

"And don't call me 'old boy'. I'm younger than you!"

"It's just a figure of speech, old...Captain," Mr. Howell stuttered.

"Yeah? Well here's another figure of speech- go and sit down and keep your giant trap shut!"

"Well! I..." Mr. Howell started blustering, but the looks on the girls' faces stopped him. Finally, he noticed the look on the Skipper's face and appeared to realise that he'd overstepped the mark when he'd made fun of Splashy's fate. "I do apologise, Captain," he said, his expression softening. "I had no idea you had become so attached to the fish."

"It's a dolphin, Mr. Howell. It's at least as intelligent as a dog or a horse or a chimpanzee, if not more so. They can be trained to do anything you tell them to, and yes, I have become 'attached' to it. When I talk to that dolphin, it looks at me as if it understands every word that comes out of my mouth. Which is more than I can say for some of the people around here!"

Mr. Howell blinked at the Skipper's tone of voice and scratched at the back of his neck. "Right," he muttered. "I'll, er...I'll just go and sit over there with my dear wife, then. And, er...keep out of everyone's way. Shall I? Yes, I think I shall."

The girls and the Skipper watched the muttering millionaire shuffle back up the beach to the twin sun loungers where Lovey waited, smiling and seemingly oblivious to the fact that her husband had just been chewed out in no uncertain terms by the Skipper.

"Look at him," the Skipper grumbled. "Never done a day's work in his life. Just sits there and expects everything to be brought to him on a plate. And the day we get rescued, they'll be the first ones sitting there with all their suitcases and fur coats!"

Ginger put her hand gently on his big meaty arm. "Skipper, calm down," she said in her best soothing tone. "You're not angry because of Mr. Howell, you're angry because you're worried about the dolphin."

The Skipper sighed and shook his head. "You're right, Ginger. I _am_ worried about Splashy. He's almost one of us now, and we're about to send him out into the unknown. It's almost like a betrayal."

"It's not a betrayal," said Mary Ann, just as gently. "He's completely free to come and go as he chooses. If he doesn't want to swim out to sea he won't. We can only train him so far. He may decide not to go. We don't know yet."

The Skipper looked out across the lagoon. Gilligan was standing up on the raft, holding the bucket of fish. He hadn't bothered to get dressed into his regular clothes and was still bare chested in his swimming shorts. He looked like someone who belonged here now, and rescue itself seemed further and further away with every day that passed. But the Skipper had a duty towards these people, his passengers and crew, and it was his job to do all he could to get them off this island and back to civilization.

Which meant that anything had to be worth a try.

"All right," the Skipper said at last, composing himself and returning to his position of authority. "Let's get back to training."

* * *

><p>Dinner that night was a subdued affair. The Professor told them that the next day Splashy would be ready to join the open ocean, and then fell silent at the lack of enthusiasm from around the table.<p>

"Come on now, everyone. We all decided this was what we were going to do."

Gilligan pulled a pout and stabbed his fork deliberately into a chunk of pineapple, pushing it around his plate without eating it.

Skipper had his chin in both hands, his food completely untouched, his fork still lying on the table.

Ginger was looking up at the Professor through lowered eyelashes, her pink lower lip sticking out.

Mary Ann was peering into her cup of mango juice, as though she could see Splashy in it.

Even the Howells were quiet. They were known for their inappropriate remarks at times, but they weren't completely insensitive people and they could tell the Skipper was upset and that this was causing tension in the group.

"Please! Everyone, cheer up," the Professor said. "What do we have to lose?"

"Splashy," the Skipper said, his voice low and mournful.

"Yeah," Gilligan agreed, still pushing the chunk of pineapple around. "Splashy."

"Splashy kissed me," said Mary Ann quietly.

"And me," whispered Ginger, her green eyes glistening.

"Oh, for heaven's sakes," the Professor sighed. "Thank you for making me feel like Public Enemy Number One."

No-one said anything to that, and now even the Professor's food lay untouched on his plate.

"I'm just trying to do the right thing," he said at last.

Gilligan looked up and met his eyes. The first mate seemed to hesitate for a second, then he took a deep breath and spoke up, his voice faltering only slightly.

"Is rescue really _that _important?"

The Professor was startled- everyone was startled- by what Gilligan had said.

"Of course it's important! Don't we all want to go home? If my memory serves me right, it's all anyone ever talks about! I know I certainly want to get back to my work and my laboratory where I don't have to make things out of _coconuts_ all the time!"

The atmosphere grew palpably tauter. Gilligan flinched and went back to pushing his pineapple around until finally the Skipper grabbed the fork out of his hand and threw it on the ground. This made the first mate push his chair back, get up from the table and stomp off to the boys' hut.

"Gilligan!" the Professor called. "Don't be silly, come back to the table."

"No!" Gilligan shouted. "I've got things to think about!" He stormed into the hut and slammed the door, which rattled on its rickety hinges.

"Let him go," the Skipper said. "It's been tough on all of us. We've all grown attached to that little fellow in the lagoon."

"Well, I refuse to be blamed for attempting another rescue," the Professor said firmly. "It's all I ever do, and quite honestly I'm beginning to think it's a thankless task."

Mary Ann was the next one to get up from the table.

"Oh, please, everybody, stop arguing! I can't bear it when everyone argues!"

"We're not arguing, Mary..." the Professor began, but it was too late, Mary Ann had run off in the direction of the girls' hut.

"Oh, now it's getting ridiculous. Everyone's overreacting."

"Hear, hear," said Mrs. Howell quietly. "I, for one, would be very, very grateful if we were all rescued."

The Professor stood up now. But instead of leaving the table as Gilligan and Mary Ann had done, he assumed a position of leadership and placed both hands on the table, leaning forward to address the four castaways that were left.

"Tomorrow we are carrying on with our rescue plans as normal. I don't want anyone coming up to me later on saying we didn't seize every opportunity we could to get ourselves off this island. If that means using a trained dolphin, no matter how much everyone's fallen in love with it, then that's the way it's going to be."

The Howells looked completely satisfied with the Professor's explanation.

"Thank goodness someone's taking charge!" Mr. Howell muttered.

"I'm not doing this to be heartless," the Professor went on, "and I will thoroughly refute any suggestion that I don't care about anyone's feelings. But sometimes tough decisions need to be made, and I'm making one right now."

Ginger chanced a look at him, drawn by his tone of authority.

"Tomorrow, we send Splashy out on his mission. He either finds a boat to come and rescue us or he doesn't. That's the chance we have to take."

The Skipper sighed and folded his arms on the table.

"You're right, Professor. We have to try it. Who knows? It could turn out to be our salvation. He's a smart little guy and I'm sure he knows his way around the vastness of the huge, wide open, fathomless, depths...of...the...unending...deep...dark...lonely..." he trailed off, all his initial enthusiasm drained as his voice got smaller and smaller. "Oh, it's no use. I'm going to bed."

The Skipper heaved himself up from the table and dragged his feet heavily all the way over to the hut where he pulled the door open as though it weighed a ton and disappeared like a big forlorn shadow into the gloom.

The Professor sank back into his seat and threw his hands up into the air.

"Does _anyone_ want to go home?" he said, a little sharply.

The Howells and Ginger were now the only ones left at the table. All three of them raised their hands tentatively at exactly the same time, in complete and utter silence, like obedient little children in a classroom.

* * *

><p>That night, both the Skipper and Gilligan lay awake in their hammocks.<p>

"Nobody wants Splashy to go," said Gilligan, his voice quiet in the dark.

"I know, little buddy. Least of all me. But the Professor's mind is made up and I guess he has a point. He doesn't want anyone blaming him for not trying."

"I wouldn't blame him," Gilligan said. "We never had anyone to play with in the lagoon before." The first mate leaned over the side of his hammock. "Mary Ann loves it when Splashy kisses her. Did you see how excited she got?"

"I sure did," the Skipper smiled. "That's a neat trick. How long did it take him to learn it?"

"Oh, not long at all. I kind of showed him how, and then he did it."

"You showed him how?" The Skipper was intrigued. "You mean, you had to kiss Mary Ann first?"

"No!" Gilligan said, as though the idea were alien to him. "I touched her cheek, and then he came over and touched her cheek and then I just said 'kiss Mary Ann' and he learned how to do it like that."

"So, you never kissed Mary Ann yourself?" The Skipper couldn't keep the growing amusement out of his voice.

"No! I didn't need to. Splashy's smart. He learns fast."

Now the Skipper allowed himself to laugh heartily. "Which is more than I can say for you, little buddy. You had all those chances to kiss Mary Ann and you didn't!"

"Why would I want to kiss Mary Ann?" Gilligan blustered.

"Oh- I don't know, Gilligan. Why _would_ you want to kiss Mary Ann?" the Skipper was laughing so hard now that his hammock was rocking side to side.

"What's so funny?" the first mate said, working himself up into a sulk.

"You are, little buddy!" the Skipper chuckled. "I've a good mind to put a wager on with Mr. Howell. The day you kiss Mary Ann Summers is the day I walk out of here with the keys to Fort Knox!"

Gilligan pulled his hat down over his face and folded his arms tightly across his chest as his own hammock began rocking from the momentum of the Skipper's.

"That's the last time I tell you anything!" he pouted.

"Oh, little buddy, you've done one thing for me," the Skipper grinned, prodding Gilligan in the back. "You've certainly cheered me up!"

"At least I'm good for something," Gilligan muttered.

"You are good for something," the Skipper replied, looking up at the dark mass above him. "You're my little buddy Gilligan. And no matter what else happens, no matter how many other buddies I have, you'll _always_ be my little buddy Gilligan."

Gilligan tried to stifle his own smile, but he couldn't.

"Tomorrow is another day, right, Skipper?"

"Right, little buddy. Tomorrow is another day."

"Goodnight, Skipper," Gilligan said.

"Goodnight, little buddy," said the Skipper.

* * *

><p><em>to be continued...<em>


	5. Departure

_Sincere apologies for the late upload of chapter 5._

_I would like to dedicate this chapter to my awesome stepfather, John Stuart, who is probably the bravest man I know right now. Hang in there, Johnny!_

* * *

><p>The next morning, even before the sun had rubbed the sleep from its eyes, the Skipper climbed carefully out of his hammock and got to his feet. He stifled a huge yawn and glanced quickly at Gilligan. The first mate was deep in slumber, frowning and making soft murmuring noises in his dreams. The Skipper smiled to himself, then turned and tip-toed quietly to the door. Easing it open so as not to rattle the hinges, he slipped out unnoticed by all but a busy little beach spider scuttling across the sand.<p>

The morning air felt unusually crisp and cool for a land so close to the equator. In an hour or two that would change, of course, as the sun climbed high into the sky and began to unleash its mighty glare. But for now, the island dozed and the palm fronds hung still. On the mainland, people would be getting out of bed and switching on appliances and turning on radios and shouting outside bathroom doors for other people to hurry up. Car engines would be revving and doors slamming and babies crying. But here, there was nothing save for the sounds of birds beginning their day.

At the lagoon, Splashy swam in lazy circles, making gentle undulations in the tranquil water. Insects hovered close to the surface and occasionally a fish would dart out and catch one. The Skipper ambled down to the water's edge and broke into a wide smile when the dolphin saw him and immediately swam over, flicking his tail in greeting.

The Skipper sat down on the rock and looked at the dolphin. "Well, Splashy, today's the big day," he sighed. "I don't know how much of this you can actually understand, but the Professor has big plans for you, little buddy. I wish with all my heart we didn't have to do this to you, but you're our best hope right now. If you can go out there and find us a boat, we'd be eternally grateful to you for the rest of our lives."

The dolphin squeaked mournfully.

"I don't even know how much of this I should be telling you," the Skipper went on. "Anyone would think I was trying to put you off. But the fact is, we really enjoy having you here, and it seems such a shame to make you go away again so soon."

The dolphin carried on looking back at the Skipper with its little beady eye.

"Of course, you could just pretend you don't understand any of the Professor's instructions. You know- play dumb. I mean, look at Gilligan. He's been getting away with it for years!"

Whether Splashy understood him or not, the dolphin made a noise that sounded very much like a giggle.

"But then again, I really do miss Hawaii, little buddy. I'd give anything to go home. I've seen enough coconuts, pineapples and bananas to last me a lifetime." He thought about this for a moment. "Of course, Hawaii isn't exactly the place to go if you want to avoid coconuts, pineapples and bananas, but at least you can get a decent steak in between!"

Splashy ducked his head and swam off into the middle of the lagoon, then circled round and came back.

"Think of it as one great big adventure," the Skipper said. "Think of yourself as a Navy captain, like me. You've got a duty to do, seaman. You've got lives to save!"

Splashy chuckled as the Skipper gave him a military salute.

"No laughing at a superior officer! That's called insubordination!"

Splashy laughed again.

"Hey, quit laughing at me! Who do you think you are, Gilligan?"

The dolphin arced up out of the lagoon and squirted a stream of water straight into the Skipper's face, then sank back beneath the waves, squeaking and chortling. The Skipper watched the dolphin swim a lap of victory, blinking while water dripped off the peak of his cap and ran down into the collar of his shirt. "I sure am gonna miss you, little buddy," he murmured.

* * *

><p>At breakfast, the mood of the castaways was markedly different from dinner the night before. They were chatty and excited, talking about rescue and the first things they were going to do when they got home.<p>

"I'm going to kiss my mother," said Gilligan.

"I'm going to kiss my agent," said Ginger.

"I'm going to kiss the doors to the First National Bank," said Mr. Howell. "And then the doors to the Second and Third National Banks!"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," said the Professor. "I know I asked for a little more enthusiasm last night, but there's no need to go overboard."

"We already went overboard," said Gilligan. "That's why we're here."

"Be quiet, Gilligan," said the Skipper. "Besides, we didn't go overboard. We got shipwrecked."

"It was a joke," Gilligan sulked. "Can't I make a joke?"

"Well, I don't see why not, seeing as you _are _a joke!"

"At least I'm not a big, fat..."

"Gentlemen, please," said the Professor. "Yes, potentially this is an exciting day for everyone, and it's natural that we're going to be getting our hopes up. But we need to stay realistic."

"So, are we gonna hang a sign around Splashy's neck saying 'SOS'?" asked Gilligan. "Or, maybe we could paint it on his body. Or maybe we could attach a light to him, so boats could see him in the dark. Or..."

"Gilligan!" the Skipper snapped.

"What? I was being realistic!"

"Pipe down and eat your breakfast," the Skipper rumbled.

Mary Ann spoke up then. "I once had an idea to paint messages on fish," she said. "I didn't think it was silly."

"How would the paint stay on?" asked Ginger.

"I'm sure the Professor could come up with some kind of paint that would stay on a fish."

"Fish paint," Gilligan grinned.

"That's ridiculous," Ginger pouted.

"Girls, please, let's not argue," said the Professor. "As for the sign saying S.O.S, it's not a bad idea, Gilligan. We could tie it on with biodegradable vegetation so that if it caused Splashy any trouble, he could easily get rid of it."

"Bio de-_what_?" said the Skipper, beating Gilligan to it by a fraction of a millisecond.

"Biodegradable. Something that disintegrates after a while."

"I wish you'd said that in the first place," the Skipper muttered.

"Well, I think it's a marvellous idea!" said Lovey, beaming with girlish delight. "It's what all the best dressed fish are wearing these days!"

"So, what's the plan, Professor?" the Skipper sighed.

* * *

><p>At the lagoon, the Professor and Gilligan pushed the raft into the water and climbed aboard with the bucket of fish. Meanwhile, the Skipper stood on the beach clutching the rough sign they had constructed from a smallish piece of flat wood attached to a length of looped vine. The other castaways milled about, watching the dolphin as it circled the lagoon watching them.<p>

"Professor, I'm not sure I like the idea of putting something round Splashy's neck," he said, eyeing the sign with suspicion. The letters S O S, painted in big red letters, stared back at him. (Gilligan had painted an earlier sign but had managed to misspell 'SOS' as 'OSS' so they had to make another one right after.)

"It'll be fine, Skipper. In fact, it'll hang so loosely on him, it probably won't even stay on at all."

"Not to state the obvious," said Mr. Howell, "but doesn't that defeat the object somewhat?"

"I'd rather not put Splashy in any danger," the Skipper said. "Something like this could easily get snagged!"

"On what?" drawled the millionaire. "A passing jellyfish?"

"Please don't start that again, Mr. Howell. You know how worried I am about that little guy."

"Gee, thanks, Skipper!" said Gilligan.

"The _other_ little guy!" barked the Skipper.

"All right, everyone, calm down," smiled the Professor. "Now, you all know the drill. Each time Splashy comes to get myself and Gilligan on the raft, we drift further and further towards the mouth of the lagoon. On the fourth turn, we'll pull the raft ashore and hide, and hopefully Splashy will just keep on swimming, thinking we're out there somewhere, and he won't stop looking until he finds something that looks similar to a raft with people on it."

There was a brief silence, punctuated by murmurings.

"Are you _sure _this'll work?" said Gilligan, pulling a face.

"No. For the last time, I'm not sure it'll work. But I still say it's worth a try!"

"What if Splashy _never _comes back?" Gilligan pressed on.

"Oh, Gilligan, don't say that!" said Mary Ann, looking as though she might cry.

"I'm sorry, Mary Ann!" Gilligan stared at her, dismayed. "I didn't mean to upset you!"

"No, Gilligan, it's a skill that comes naturally," the Skipper said, glaring at the first mate.

"But I didn't mean it! All I said was, 'what if Splashy never comes back'!"

At that, Mary Ann promptly burst into tears- great howling sobs that tore the air and made everyone start shuffling nervously. Gilligan immediately jumped off the raft into the lagoon and swam back to shore, despite the Professor's protests.

"Nice going little buddy," said the Skipper as Gilligan waded out of the water, but Gilligan ignored him and went straight over to Mary Ann.

"We never even got to have a last swim and say goodbye," the young girl blubbed.

"We had a last swim yesterday," said Gilligan, not knowing how to reassure her. Once again his arms hovered near her without actually touching her. He was completely out of his depth.

"I didn't know that was going to be our last swim," Mary Ann sniffled. "I thought that would be the last swim _before_ the last swim, and that we'd get to have our last swim today!"

Gilligan watched her face contort into more sobs, tears running down her cheeks like rain. Finally he touched her elbow, hesitantly, with one hand. "Do you want to have a last swim today?" he asked, gently.

"Not if it's going to cause any trouble," Mary Ann hiccupped, her voice tiny and fragile, like a little girl's.

Gilligan, his hand on her elbow, looked up and around at all the other castaways' faces. Ginger was staring at the sand, Mr. Howell was frowning studiously while Mrs. Howell looked stricken by Mary Ann's tears. The Skipper looked as though he were biting back tears himself, clutching the sign so hard it looked like it might break in two. The Professor, still standing on the raft by himself, let out a huge, gusty sigh and threw his arms up in despair.

"Oh, all right," he relented. "You can have one hour. But use it to get Splashy used to having the sign around his neck, not just for playing around."

"Oh, thank you, Professor, thank you!" Mary Ann said, wiping the tears from her eyes and breaking into a wavering smile. "I promise we won't be long. It's just so sad to think we might not see Splashy ever again!"

The Professor brought the raft back to shore and climbed off it, managing not to get either his shoes or his socks wet as he hopped onto the sand. "Please, try not to bond with Splashy any more than you already have," he said, seriously.

"Hear that, Gilligan?" said the Skipper.

"I was talking to _you,_" said the Professor, with a wry smile. "You look just as eager to go swimming with that dolphin as they are!"

* * *

><p>Splashy was delighted to have so many people in the lagoon with him. Ginger, the Skipper, Gilligan and Mary Ann all cavorted in the shallows while the dolphin swam around and around with the new sign hanging around his neck. It was neither too tight nor too loose, and after reassuring Splashy that they weren't trying to hurt him, the Skipper watched proudly as the animal leaped up out of the water and twisted around in mid-air. "He only does that when he's really happy," he declared. "He must be okay with having that thing around his neck."<p>

"The Professor said it would break off easily if Splashy wanted to get rid of it," Mary Ann smiled. "I think it was a wonderful idea of yours, Gilligan!"

The first mate lowered his head, suddenly shy. "Thanks, Mary Ann," he stammered, but he wasn't prepared for what happened next.

Mary Ann beckoned to the dolphin and waded across to her friend, who was now blushing right down to the roots of his hair. "Splashy, kiss Gilligan."

Gilligan squirmed. "Aw, no, Mary Ann, you don't have to..."

"Like this," Mary Ann said, and in front of the watching dolphin she leaned towards Gilligan and pressed her lips gently against his cheek.

Almost immediately, the dolphin let out a loud squeak, swam over, and pressed his snout gently against Gilligan's other cheek.

"Little buddy, you should see your face!" laughed the Skipper. "I sure wish I had a camera right now!"

"Mary _Aaaannnn_," whined Gilligan. He made a big show of trying to push her away, but he was grinning wider than a split grapefruit. Meanwhile, Splashy chortled his little dolphin laugh and bobbed his head up and down in the water.

"How do you like that?" the Skipper grinned at Ginger. "You wait all day for a kiss, and then two come along at once."

"I've never had to wait all day for a kiss," the movie star smiled, batting her eyelashes flirtatiously.

Not to be outdone, the Skipper chortled heartily. "Until I came to this place, neither did I!"

Gilligan then told Splashy to kiss Mary Ann. "Like this." And he leaned towards Mary Ann, screwed up his eyes tightly, and landed a quick, clumsy kiss midway between her chin and her ear before retreating hurriedly just in case she slapped him.

Splashy kissed Mary Ann, who, after being kissed by Gilligan, looked as though she'd just been given a pony for her eleventh birthday. Then the dolphin kissed Ginger, and finally, to loud whoops and cheers, he kissed the Skipper, not once, but twice, making the big man go all silly like a girl being kissed on her first date.

After that, Gilligan let Splashy tow him around the lagoon for the last time before the Professor began pacing up and down and looking pointedly at his watch.

"Oh, _Professor_," pouted Ginger. "We were having so much fun!"

"I'm sorry, Ginger. But we really must get moving. Look at it this way- there could be a boat out there right now with our names on it."

"Wow!" said Gilligan, swimming back to the shallows. "Imagine being rescued by a boat with our names already on it!"

"Well, it won't happen if you keep playing with Splashy all day. Now, you've said your goodbyes. You've had a good swim. Let's get back to business."

Mary Ann's face fell almost immediately, but she knew not to cry this time. The Professor would have no more sympathy for her, and he'd know they were just stalling for time now.

Everyone waded ashore a little gloomily, leaving Splashy clicking and squeaking at them as though asking where they were going. As they dried off and got dressed, the Skipper was unable to stop looking at the little dolphin with the S.O.S sign hanging around its neck like a lei.

"I feel terrible," he said. "I feel like we're sending him away."

"I just hope one day he comes back," said the Professor.

The Skipper looked at the Professor, studied the man of science's face closely. "How _do_ you feel about all of this, Professor?" he asked.

"How do I feel?" the Professor said, looking the Skipper squarely in the eye. "You really want to know how I feel? I feel responsible, that's how I feel. Now come along. We've got work to do."

The Professor walked away a little too quickly, leaving the Skipper to rub frantically at his hair with a towel and wonder exactly what went on in the Professor's mind, and if he ever stopped being the Professor, even for one minute.

* * *

><p>Gilligan and the Professor took the raft and drifted away around the bend of the lagoon until they were completely out of sight.<p>

"What do we do now?" asked Mary Ann, standing on the beach with the Skipper.

"We wait for the Professor to signal us with the conch shell, and then we send Splashy out to bring them back, just like we've been doing for the last two days," said the Skipper. "We do the same thing three times, and then the fourth time...well, the fourth time is when, if the Professor's plan works, they pull the raft ashore and hide, and Splashy heads out into the ocean...and never comes back!" The Skipper's voice cracked suddenly and he turned his head away from Mary Ann.

"Oh, Skipper, don't cry," Mary Ann said gently.

"I'm not crying," the Skipper said, swallowing a lump in his throat. "I'm just a little choked, that's all. Splashy's our friend, and we're sending him away."

"I'm sure Splashy doesn't see it that way. Gilligan was talking to him, and..."

"What would Gilligan know?" The Skipper knew he sounded a little harsh, but he couldn't help himself. "I'm the one who found Splashy! I'm his big buddy!"

"If you'd let me finish, Skipper," Mary Ann said patiently. "I was going to say that Gilligan was talking to him and he told Gilligan about how you found him when he thought he was all alone, and how you befriended him, and how grateful he was that you were there. And do you know what else?"

"What else?" the Skipper said, pouting slightly.

"Splashy told him that our lagoon isn't really his home. It's not where he lives. He got lost, and his family is still out there, and they're all probably looking for him right now."

The Skipper eyed Mary Ann curiously. "Now, I know my little buddy communicates with animals better than anyone else, but...did Splashy _really _say all that to him?"

Mary Ann smiled sweetly. "Not in so many words. But think about it, Skipper- isn't that what you'd say if you were a dolphin swimming around and around in the lagoon all day and all night with no other dolphins to keep you company? As much as you loved being here, wouldn't you wish you were at home with your own family?"

The Skipper smiled at last. He felt a little embarrassed for sounding more worried about himself than about Splashy. "Of course I would, Mary Ann. And that's exactly how I do feel. I want to be at home with my own people. This is a beautiful island, but it isn't my natural home any more than the lagoon is Splashy's natural home."

"He really belongs in the open ocean." Mary Ann looked at the dolphin who was drifting in lazy circles, looking back at them as though listening to every word they were saying. "With his own kind."

The Skipper sighed and nodded. "You're right, Mary Ann. That's _exactly_ where he belongs."

A few moments later they heard the distant blare of the conch shell. The dolphin sprang to attention immediately, chattering and calling, bobbing his head up and down.

"That's our signal, Splashy!" yelled the Skipper. "Go fetch the raft, little buddy! Go fetch the raft!"

* * *

><p>Gilligan was sitting cross legged on the raft, peering intently into the bucket of fish, when the dolphin appeared around the bend in the lagoon like a grey torpedo streaking through the water.<p>

"What on Earth...?" said the Professor, startled. "Look at him, Gilligan! Look how fast he's moving!"

Gilligan pulled his head out of the bucket and stared towards the bend. "I can't see anything," he said, confused.

"That's because he's already gone _past_ us! Look!"

Gilligan got unsteadily to his feet as the raft began rocking in the dolphin's wake. He swung around to face the back of the raft just in time to see Splashy hurtling through the water on his way to the ocean, a tiny blob of grey with a piece of green vine around his neck.

"Professor, what's going on? He wasn't meant to go past us!"

"I know, Gilligan! It's almost as if he knows what we want him to do, and he's doing it without being told!"

For once, Gilligan was speechless. Both he and the Professor stood on the raft and stared after Splashy until they couldn't see him anymore- until the little animal had completely disappeared, bounding into the busy traffic of waves that commuted endlessly across the ocean on their way to somewhere more important.

The two castaways were silent for a couple of minutes with their ears pricked and their eyes peeled, but there was no further sign of the little dolphin that had been their friend for the last few days.

"I can't believe it. Splashy's gone," said Gilligan, at last. "He's really gone, Professor. He's really, really gone."

"Incredible," muttered the Professor.

"Skipper's gonna be sad," said Gilligan, removing his hat and twisting it between his fingers, a nervous habit he'd never been able to get rid of.

"Not if we tell him the truth. That Splashy went out into the ocean without us having to trick him."

"Oh yeah," said Gilligan. "I guess so. I guess that was the right way, huh, Professor? I still think Skipper's gonna be sad, though. I know _I'm _sad."

In dumbfounded silence, they paddled the raft back to the shore to tell the Skipper and the others what had happened.

* * *

><p><em>to be continued...<em>


	6. Dancing

As they rounded the bend and headed for the shore, the Professor and Gilligan wondered what they'd tell the other castaways. Even from this distance they could see Ginger, Mary Ann and the Howells looking at each other in puzzlement while the Skipper paced nervously up and down the shoreline, chewing his nails.

The question was clear on everyone's faces. _Where's Splashy? _

As soon as they were within earshot, the Professor spoke up before the Skipper could say a word. "He's gone, Skipper."

The big man looked astounded for several seconds, as though he hadn't quite heard what the Professor had said. Then his face collapsed like a balloon with all the air let out of it. "Gone? What do you mean, _gone_?"

"Gee oh en, 'gone'," said Gilligan, helpfully.

The Professor nodded. "He swam past us like a torpedo, didn't even stop for a fish."

"Yeah, and now we've got all these stinky fish left." Gilligan held the bucket at arm's length with one hand and pinched his nostrils together with the other.

"Well, you could have just dumped them overboard, Gilligan," said the Professor.

"Preferably with Gilligan still holding the bucket," added the Skipper.

"Getting back to Splashy," smiled the Professor. "Gilligan and I think he knew exactly what we wanted him to do all along. Gilligan thinks he understood every word of our instructions. I'm not so sure dolphins are that highly intelligent, but Splashy certainly did what we'd hoped he would- and how."

"You don't have to be intelligent to listen to Gilligan's babbling all day long," the Skipper said, glancing at the first mate. "But I'll admit that _I_ had quite a few lengthy conversations with Splashy myself. I told him to pretend he was in the Navy and had a job to do." The Skipper found he had unconsciously puffed his chest out with pride. "And I told him how much we wanted to go home, and that as lovely as our island was, we didn't belong here any more than he did. Do you really think he could have understood what I was saying?"

"It's not entirely inconceivable," said the Professor.

"He also could have sensed that you were sad," said Mary Ann. "My horse could always sense when I was sad. He would nuzzle his head against me and make soft blowing noises into my neck to cheer me up."

The Skipper and the Professor exchanged a small raised-eyebrows look with each other. "Well, now we know how to cheer Mary Ann up," the Skipper chuckled.

"Skipper, I'm being serious," said Mary Ann, putting her hands on her hips and giving Skipper 'the look.'

"I know, Mary Ann," the Skipper grinned. "And I know what you're saying. I think Splashy _could_ see that I was sad. He made these little mournful sounds whenever I talked about home and how much I missed sailing the _Minnow_ and hanging out at the harbour."

"And this is what we wanted him to do," said the Professor.

The Skipper sighed, his chest deflating and shoulders slumping. At the same time, he looked happier than he'd done when they first saw him as they headed back across the lagoon. "You're right, Professor. This _is _what we wanted him to do."

"We shouldn't really be sad, Skipper," said Gilligan. "Because even if we miss Splashy, it means that now we might get rescued."

"You're right too, Gilligan," the Skipper said, clapping his skinny friend on the shoulder and knocking the breath out of him. "We shouldn't be sad. In fact, I think maybe we ought to celebrate!"

"Celebrate?" said Mary Ann.

"Yes!" said the Skipper, now beaming broadly from ear to ear. "Celebrate! I say we throw a party for Splashy- to thank him for being such a smart little guy!"

* * *

><p>They held Splashy's party that very evening. As the sun began to set, the sky becoming smeared with streaks of fiery red and orange, the boys finished decorating the huts and the girls started piling the table high with food. There were festive platters of fruits, nuts and berries, homemade cassava cakes and cookies. There was guava jam and stacks of pancakes with jugs of sweet syrup standing nearby. There were special occasion pies which were twice as large as normal pies and sent Gilligan into rapture the minute he clapped eyes on them. He was especially drawn to the centerpiece- a huge coconut crème pie, warm and sweet smelling and fresh from the oven, surrounded by garlands of beautiful pink and yellow hibiscus flowers. Several times Ginger had to rap his knuckles sharply with a spoon when she caught him sneaking over to the table, sticking his finger into the middle of the meringue topping and then licking it clean.<p>

"That's a dirty habit, Gilligan!"

"Why? I washed my hands!"

"Sticking your finger in your mouth and then putting it back in the pie?"

"Okay, then, I'll use a fork!"

He grabbed a fork, scooped up some pie, put the fork in his mouth and then stuck it back in the pie.

"I give up," sighed Ginger.

"Good," said Gilligan, doing it again. Then he looked up and grinned mischievously. "Wanna dance later, Ginger?" He chuckled as the movie star tossed her head and stalked off in a huff. It had only taken Gilligan three years, but now he knew how to tease Ginger he loved getting one over on her at every opportunity. With a happy smile on his face, Gilligan carried on eating huge forkfuls of delicious coconut crème pie.

The castaways had painted a huge banner with the words 'Bon Voyage, Splashy' on it. They hung it up on the Skipper and Gilligan's hut where it fluttered cheerfully in the warmth of the evening breeze, and lit Tiki torches to highlight it now that it was dark.

"It's beautiful!" said Mary Ann. "If only Splashy were here to see it."

"If Splashy were _here_, he'd be in trouble," said Gilligan.

"You'll be in trouble in a minute," said the Skipper, good-naturedly. He was proud of the banner, and was secretly thinking the same thing as Mary Ann.

"I'm always in trouble," Gilligan shrugged.

"I think it's wonderful, holding a party for a giant fish!" Mrs. Howell, dressed in her finest evening wear, clapped her gloved hands in delight. "Why, I'll bet we're the first to have ever done such a thing! How very cosmopolitan of us!"

The Professor wound up the cocophone and put some music on to get the party underway. The castaways then milled around the table, pouring drinks and chatting while they helped themselves to food.

The Skipper was staring forlornly at the centerpiece pie, which now had a huge, sunken crater right in the middle of it."What happened there?" he asked, scratching his head in bafflement.

"Gilligan happened there," said Ginger, pouting at the first mate, who was trying to look the picture of innocence.

"Well, I'm glad you left _some_ of it for us," the Skipper sighed.

"Yes, he left you the crust," said Ginger. "And a few crumbs."

"It's Mary Ann's fault," said Gilligan, just as Mary Ann appeared, resplendent in her blue patterned dress.

"How is it my fault?" she asked, bemusedly.

"For making the pies so yummy!"

"Don't think that gets you off the hook, Gilligan," said Ginger, putting her hands on her hips. "That pie was meant for all of us!"

"Ginger, you don't even eat pie," said Gilligan. "You're too busy watching your weight."

"Not that you _need_ to watch your weight, Ginger," said the Skipper, jumping in quickly before the flustered movie star could retaliate.

"See, Ginger? Even the Skipper watches your weight," said Gilligan. "And talking of weight, Skipper, you shouldn't really be eating pie, either."

"_What_? Why, you...!"

"Oh, relax everyone!" Mary Ann laughed. "There's plenty more pie on the table! I know- why don't we all forget about pie and have a dance instead?" She looked up at Gilligan, fluttering her eyelashes, linking her arm deftly through his before he realised what was happening.

Gilligan immediately tried to worm his arm out of Mary Ann's clutches while Ginger and the Skipper exchanged looks of amusement. "I just remembered something I gotta do!" he stammered, trying not to squeak. "I gotta, um...walk the dog!"

Mary Ann giggled. "Gilligan. We don't have a dog."

"Walk the cat?"

"We don't have a cat."

"Feed the cat."

"Gilligan." Mary Ann was now holding on quite firmly to the first mate's arm, looking up at him through soft brown eyes. He swallowed nervously.

"I know. I have to take out the trash."

"You can do that in the morning. Look- everyone else is dancing."

Gilligan tore his eyes away from Mary Ann and glanced over at the area of sand that doubled up as the dance floor. Sure enough, everyone else was dancing. The Skipper with Ginger, and Mr. Howell with Mrs. Howell, while the Professor changed the records and waited his turn with the next available partner.

"See, Gilligan? If you don't dance with me I'll have to dance with the Professor."

"But, Mary Ann..." Gilligan squirmed some more. "I'm really not a very good dancer."

"You dance with Ginger." Mary Ann pouted slightly, just enough to make her look even cuter than she already was.

"Yeah, but Ginger's..." he stopped, pulled a face. "Ginger's _Ginger._"

"And who am I? Chopped liver?"

"No. You're Mary Ann. That's why...um...that's why..."

Mary Ann squeezed his arm gently. "There's no need to panic, Gilligan. We've danced before, haven't we?"

"Yeah, and I was scared then, too. I stepped on your toes, remember? Five times."

"So? My toes recovered. Besides, you're exaggerating- it was only four times."

Gilligan pulled back hesitantly as Mary Ann began to lead him to the dance floor. But it appeared his feet had other ideas. Somehow his feet were taking him in the exact opposite direction that the rest of him wanted to go. His feet were taking him towards the dance floor.

The Skipper was twirling Ginger around in some wild version of the Watusi when he looked up and saw Gilligan and Mary Ann start to dance. Gilligan was doing some kind of awkward shuffle, trying not to move his feet any more than he had to. Mary Ann was about two feet in front of him doing the same awkward shuffle, looking as if she wanted to be closer but not quite knowing how to do it.

"Look at them," he chuckled. "Clueless!"

"Oh, I think it's sweet!" Ginger said. "You'd think they were five years old!"

"Sometimes I think Gilligan _is_ five years old," the Skipper chortled. "Look at his face- he's terrified!"

Ginger laughed and shook her head. "How can someone so annoying be so adorable at the same time?"

"C'mon, Ginger. Lets go over and show them how it's done!"

Ginger grabbed the Skipper's arm, stopping the big man in his tracks. "_Skipper_! We'll do no such thing! Besides...who would you really rather dance with? Mary Ann?" She shimmied her hips, put her glossy lips together and blew him an impressively seductive air kiss. "Or yours truly?"

The Skipper looked Ginger slowly up and down. It took him point nothing of a second to reach his decision. "I think we both know the answer to that," he chuckled.

While Skipper and Ginger carried on dancing, they carried on watching Mary Ann and Gilligan's clumsy shuffling. The two youngest castaways seemed totally uncoordinated. Mary Ann was doing her best, but Gilligan was all hands and elbows, knees and feet.

"It's almost more than I can bear," the Skipper said, wincing as Gilligan spun around and accidentally bumped into Mary Ann, nearly knocking her over.

"Leave them alone. Let them work it out for themselves."

"And how long do you think _that _will take, Ginger?"

Ginger watched Mary Ann recover from almost being knocked to the ground, only to have Gilligan stand on her foot. She sighed. "Thirty years."

"Poor Mary Ann, and my poor little buddy," Skipper said, shaking his head. Then another thought struck him and he became sombre suddenly. "Which reminds me. I wonder how my _other_ little buddy is doing?"

Ginger noticed the change in the Skipper's mood- not least because he'd suddenly stopped twirling her around and was now looking off in the direction of the lagoon, beyond the darkened jungle where the trees made strange and quiet shapes against the moonlit sky. "I'm sure he'll be perfectly all right, Skipper," she said, gently.

"I hope so, Ginger. I hope so."

Mr. Howell's contribution to the party had been to make a pot of fermented berry tea, despite his wife's objections as she watched him add a touch more alcohol to the already potent brew.

"Thurston, dear. You remember what happened the last time!"

"Yes, Lovey. A good time was had by all!"

"No. We got so drunk we fell asleep and Lord Beasley left without us," Mrs. Howell tutted.

"That's funny- I seem to remember there were dancing girls!"

"Yes, there probably were, Thurston. In your dreams."

"Oh, well!" Mr. Howell laughed and raised his cup in the air. "Chin chin!"

Now the berry tea was being poured out- seven mugs for seven castaways. "Everyone, I motion that we drink a toast to Splashy!" called Mr. Howell, alerting the couples on the dance floor.

The Professor had only just that minute started dancing with Ginger, swapping with the Skipper who had gone over to man the cocophone. He rolled his eyes in frustration as the millionaire began banging on the berry pot with a knife to get everyone's attention. Meanwhile, Gilligan had finally plucked up enough courage to slow dance with Mary Ann and had only just that minute put his arm tentatively around her waist. When he heard Mr. Howell's voice he pulled his arm away instantly, like a child caught doing something naughty.

Mary Ann wished, not for the first time, that the millionaire would suddenly and mysteriously lose his voice and go and sit quietly in a corner somewhere. But Mr. Howell was insistent, and anyway, it was a toast to Splashy, their little dolphin friend who was right now taking his chances in the inky depths of the ocean so that they could go home.

The castaways all gathered at the table and accepted their mugs of berry tea. Mr. Howell was generous in his measures and they peered into their mugs a little dubiously.

"I can smell it from here!" said the Skipper.

"Mr. Howell, I'm allergic to alcohol!" the Professor protested. "If I drink too much of it, I fall over!"

"And I'm too young to die!" said Mary Ann, holding her mug at arm's length.

"I'm too beautiful to die!" said Ginger, wrinkling her nose.

"I'm too alive to die!" said Gilligan, sniffing the concoction and screwing up his face.

Mr. Howell waved his hand dismissively at them all. "Nonsense, it's not that strong! You'll be back on your feet by Thursday!"

"Mr. Howell," said the Skipper. "It's Monday."

"Well, then. You'll be back on your feet by Friday!" Mr. Howell coughed and cleared his throat, then held his mug in the air. The other castaways reluctantly followed suit. "To Splashy the dolphin. To our brave and valiant friend of the sea, who may well be risking his life right now, fighting courageously with all his might against hordes of sharks, or eels, or octopus, or giant squid..."

"Mr. Howell!" cried the Skipper in dismay.

"Or pirates," said Gilligan, warming to the theme.

"...just so that we can be saved from this tropical hellhole and return at once to our lives of luxury," Mr. Howell finished.

"Who's got lives of luxury to return to?" The Skipper's eyebrows shot halfway up his head.

"We do," said Mr. Howell, putting his other arm around Mrs. Howell, who beamed at everyone proudly.

"You know, Mr. Howell, when you put it _that_ way...I wish we _hadn't _sent Splashy out there into the middle of the open ocean!"

"Everyone, calm down," said the Professor. "Mr. Howell may have worded it a little insensitively, but this is meant to be a toast to Splashy, so let's drink a toast to Splashy. To Splashy!" With that, the Professor swallowed a large mouthful of the berry tea and instantly launched into a coughing fit while Ginger patted him delicately on the back.

"Well," said the Skipper, "I'll probably end up regretting it, but I'll drink this stuff for Splashy if it's the last thing I do! Which it probably will be."

A chorus of 'to Splashy!' went around the table, followed by a series of coughing fits as the fiery liquid scalded their throats and made their eyes water. Even Mr. Howell stood there with his mouth opening and closing like a fish. The only person who appeared unaffected was Mrs. Howell, who had a benign smile on her face, her eyes almost unfocused, gazing off into space.

"Mrs. Howell! How come you're not choking like the rest of us?" asked the Skipper. His eyes resembled two little waterfalls coursing down his cheeks. "Mrs. Howell? Hello? Mrs. Howell?" He went over and waved his hand up and down in front of Mrs. Howell's face. Her expression remained unchanged. "Mrs. Howell!" He turned and looked worriedly at Mr. Howell. "What's wrong with her, Mr. Howell? I don't even think she can hear me!"

"Oh, Lovey must have fainted standing up," Mr. Howell said, sipping more berry tea, totally unconcerned. "She'll snap out of it in a minute."

Sure enough, Mrs. Howell's eyes suddenly refocused and she appeared surprised to see the Skipper standing so close. "Why, Captain! What on earth is the matter with you?"

"With me?" The Skipper spluttered. "Mrs. Howell, you were unconscious for three minutes!"

"Oh, goody!" Mrs. Howell declared. "That's much shorter than the last time." Oblivious to the Skipper's panic, she immediately took another dainty sip of her tea. "Do you know, Thurston, this tea really isn't too bad at all!"

Gilligan, meanwhile, had already consumed half of the contents of his mug and was swaying slightly, a lopsided grin on his face. "Spashy," he muttered, then hiccuped.

"What did you say, Gilligan?" Mary Ann asked.

"Spashy. Plashy. Spashy. He's gonna save us!"

"I think you're beyond saving, Gilligan," said the Skipper. "I don't think you should drink any more of that tea, either!"

"Aye, aye, Slipper," Gilligan said, giving a mock-salute and completely missing his head.

"By George, he's half cut!" cried Mr. Howell.

"He's always been half cut," the Skipper muttered.

"Gilligan, maybe you ought to sit down," Mary Ann suggested, trying to stifle her giggles.

Gilligan shook his head so vehemently that his hat fell off. When he bent to pick it up he fell forward and conked his head on the edge of the table, making everything rattle. He swayed to his feet and wedged the hat back on his head. He looked at Mary Ann, his eyes wavering in and out of focus. "Dance," he said, holding his arm out towards her.

"Gilligan, you're drunk!" Mary Ann giggled again, putting her hand over her mouth.

"C'mon, Mary Ann. I'll never be this brave again," he said, quite clearly this time.

"Well...I suppose, if you put it that way..."

"This calls for some music!" The Professor was more than glad to get away from his mug of berry tea, practically running to the cocophone to select something suitable for Gilligan's dance with Mary Ann. After all, it wasn't every day that the first mate displayed such confidence! He selected a record and put it on.

The moment the tune started, Gilligan took hold of Mary Ann's hand and they both ran laughing to the dancefloor. "C'mon, Mary Ann! Hurry! They're playing our song!"

"Gilligan, we don't have a song!"

"We do now! This one!"

"I've never seen Gilligan so eager to dance," said Ginger, open mouthed.

"Me neither!" said the Skipper, shocked, as he watched his little buddy put his hands on either side of Mary Ann's waist, completely unselfconsciously. "Mr. Howell, what did you put in Gilligan's tea?"

"Nothing," Mr. Howell replied, also staring at Gilligan, who was now spinning Mary Ann around and around, laughing maniacally. "Just berries. And brandy. And maybe a touch more brandy. And maybe a dash of rum..."

"In other words, we've just given Gilligan rocket fuel."

"It would seem so, mon Capitaine. It would seem so." Mr. Howell stroked his chin, thoughtfully.

Gilligan let go of Mary Ann and spun around like a top with his arms in the air. "Wheeeee!" he yelled, while Mary Ann looked on in wide-eyed amazement. "We're gonna be rescued! We're gonna be rescued!"

Finally, he stopped spinning. After almost falling over with dizziness, he stood in front of Mary Ann and took her by the shoulders, looking as deeply as he could into her eyes, although he had to search her whole face before he was able to get a fix on them. "We're going to be rescued," he whispered, breathing alcohol fumes all over her.

For a moment Mary Ann thought he was going to kiss her. His face was mere inches from hers, his eyes boring into her intently. But she didn't want him to kiss her like this. Not while he was high as a kite. Not when there was every chance he'd miss her lips altogether, or worse, break her nose by accidentally head butting her and then not remembering anything about it the next day. It was making her giddy though, having him this close to her. Their noses were almost touching. His alcohol breath wasn't even that bad, it was sweet and slightly scented with coconut. There was a brief instant where she was tempted. But then the moment was over, and it was Gilligan who ended it by releasing his grip on her shoulders and breaking out into another bout of crazy dancing, grabbing Mary Ann by the waist and waltzing her around the sand.

"This is how Splashy would dance if he was a human!" Gilligan exclaimed.

"It's how Splashy would dance if he was a Gilligan!" Mary Ann laughed, breathless.

The rest of the castaways cheered and clapped in time to the music as Gilligan and Mary Ann waltzed on the sand, round and round and round, Mary Ann laughing and Gilligan hollering at the top of his voice. Soon, tired of being an observer, Ginger grabbed the Professor's hand and dragged him onto the dancefloor to join their friends. Then Gilligan was waving at the Skipper, urging him to come and join them too. "We're doing the Splashy dance, Skipper! You don't need a partner. We're all partners! Come on, Skipper! Come and do the Splashy dance!"

The Skipper raised his eyes briefly, looking out over the trees to where the waxing moon was smiling back at him from the top of the volcano. "Don't forget to light my little buddy's way," he said softly, feeling as sure as he always did that the moon was actually listening. And then, cajoled into submission by the younger castaways eager shouts and hand waving, he went out into the middle of the dancefloor and let himself get caught up in the Splashy Dance.

* * *

><p><em>to be continued...<em>


	7. Return

_A/N: Final chapter, folks. Thank you so much for sticking with this little story to the end! _

* * *

><p>Skipper awoke the morning after the Splashy Party with mixed feelings. He lay in the lower sack rubbing his stubbly cheeks, thinking about events the night before. How he'd enjoyed dancing with wild abandon, laughing and hugging his fellow castaways, throwing caution to the wind. And how he'd kept looking up at the moon's benign smile, hoping against hope that the little dolphin wasn't lonely out there all on his own while they were carousing and celebrating. He hoped the moon didn't think it was selfish for them to be enjoying themselves while Splashy was on his mission to get them rescued. He hoped the moon understood that sometimes you did what you had to do.<p>

Skipper rolled out of his hammock and stood up, swaying momentarily as the blood rushed from his head. "I don't have a hangover," he muttered. "Gilligan, on the other hand..."

Gilligan was still fast asleep, curled on his side with his pillow clutched tightly to his chest, his hat pulled down firmly over his face. The normally shy first mate had danced long into the night. After Mary Ann had become exhausted by the constant twirling he whisked Ginger out of the Professor's arms, and then when he'd finished spinning the movie star around and around he'd attempted to waltz with Mrs. Howell, who, taking one look at his wild, excited eyes, admonished him gently and told him she thought it was high time he sat this one out. Unoffended by her refusal, Gilligan had then staggered over to the table and promptly fallen asleep with his head on his arms, ending the night by being carried to his hammock by the Skipper, whilst snoring loudly.

The Skipper exited the hut to see that Mary Ann was already awake and up. The table and its surrounding areas were strewn with dirty cups and plates, remnants of food uneaten, wilting hibiscus and other party debris. The sand was all displaced, their temporary dance floor having served its purpose as the location for last night's bacchanalia. Mary Ann was standing in the middle of the chaos, her hands planted firmly on her hips.

"Don't worry about all that, Mary Ann." Skipper jerked his thumb back towards the hut. "I'll get Sleeping Beauty to do it when he wakes up."

"And when do you think that will that be?" Mary Ann smiled.

"Three o'clock this afternoon, if he's as hungover as I think he is," Skipper laughed.

Mary Ann laughed too, soft and girlish. "I really don't think I can stand to look at this mess for _that_ long."

"All right then, let me give you a hand, as soon as I get back."

"Get back?" said Mary Ann. "Oh, of course, I think I know exactly where you're going. Down to the lagoon." She smiled at him while she began stacking dirty dishes on the table.

"Of course. After all, who knows? Splashy might have returned in the night."

"Well, if he did, he came back on his own. I can't hear any signs of visitors."

"Doesn't hurt to check, though. Right?"

"Of course, Skipper. It doesn't hurt to check."

But the lagoon was quiet. Nary a ripple marred its surface, except for the occasional insect being eaten by the occasional fish. The Skipper walked up and down the shore, craning his neck to see around the bend, but there was no sign of Splashy. No sign of his other little buddy, no flashes of sleek dolphin body, no sounds of happy squeaking.

The Skipper sighed.

"Nothing?" came Mary Ann's voice behind him, startling him for a moment. "I got a little curious myself," she said, coming over to stand beside him.

"Nothing," the Skipper replied, shaking his head.

"Well, don't lose heart, Skipper. After all, he only left yesterday."

"I know, but..." the Skipper stared mournfully out across the water, "...sometimes I wish he hadn't left at all."

"I know you're sad, Skipper," said Mary Ann, "but imagine how you'll feel when a boat comes? Imagine how you'll feel going home at last?"

"Is my happiness worth more than the fate of my little buddy?" the Skipper said, sighing heavily for the umpteenth time.

"Gilligan?"

"No. My _other _little buddy. Splashy."

"That's a hard question to answer," said the farm girl, becoming pensive.

"We want so much to be rescued, Mary Ann, but we're not doing so badly here, are we? We have plenty of food and fresh water and roofs over our heads...well, most of the time, unless it storms and Gilligan hasn't nailed them down properly. And yet look at us- we're quite prepared to send someone else off into the great unknown just because we so desperately want to get away from here. To put someone else in peril just because we're selfish."

"It's not selfish to want to go home, Skipper. And we haven't put anyone in peril. We've sent a dolphin back where he belongs. If anything, we've helped Splashy to go home. We haven't been selfish at all."

"I guess what I'm really trying to say is, maybe I didn't want Splashy to go at all. Maybe I wanted him to stay here with us. It wasn't _my_ idea to train him to go and look for a damned boat!" The Skipper quickly clamped his hand over his mouth. "I'm sorry, Mary Ann. I didn't mean to curse in front of a lady."

"That's all right,"Mary Ann grinned, then put on her best rural midwestern accent. "You ain't heard cussin' 'til you've lived on a farm with half a dozen farmhands and a broken tractor."

"Or until you've been in the Navy," the Skipper replied, going slightly pink around the ears.

"If it's any consolation, I know how you feel, Skipper. A little bit, anyway." Mary Ann paused and looked down at her sand-scuffed shoes before carrying on. "Gilligan and I had so much fun swimming with Splashy, you don't know how much I enjoyed that. Without Splashy there, I don't think Gilligan would ever have..."

"Have what?" Skipper prompted, after Mary Ann fell silent.

"Have opened up so much." Mary Ann looked up at the Skipper. "Be honest, Skipper. When has Gilligan ever displayed such affection towards me? Normally he runs a mile if I so much as smile at him. But with Splashy there, it was like he really wanted to be with me, to impress me, to show me all the things he'd taught Splashy to do." Her face grew wistful. "And now that Splashy's no longer here, Gilligan will most likely go right back to the way he was, pretending that everything's fine the way it is."

The Skipper's ears pricked up at that, but he said nothing. Because it was something he'd known for a long time. Gilligan could argue against romance until he was blue in the face but it had been clear almost from the day they were shipwrecked. Gilligan and Mary Ann were almost-an-item, had in fact been almost-an-item for three years, slowly and gradually edging closer and closer every day in an unconscious ballet that was as subtle and delicate as two fledgling butterflies getting used to the fact that they weren't ungainly, earthbound caterpillars any more. And then the Skipper had another dismaying thought. What if Splashy _did_ bring back a boat, and they did get rescued? What would happen to Gilligan and Mary Ann? Would they be swept up in the commotion and be forced to go their separate ways?

Would they choose to go their separate ways?

Rescue could spell the end of something beautiful before it had even begun.

In silence, and with heavy hearts, the Skipper and Mary Ann returned to the huts, lost in their own individual thoughts.

When they arrived back, Gilligan was standing there in the middle of all the mess, rumpled and hungover, scratching his head under his hat.

"What happened here?" he asked, puzzled.

"_You_ happened here," said the Skipper, echoing Ginger's comment about the pie. "Don't you remember anything?"

"Sure. I remember toasting Splashy, and then I remember waking up in my hammock with one doozy of a headache."

"You don't remember anything else?" the Skipper's eyebrows shot up.

Gilligan frowned. "Did I dance with Ginger?" he asked, hesitantly. Then, when Mary Ann's face fell so far it almost hit the floor, he laughed out loud, waving his hands in the air in mock-surrender. "Don't worry, I remember everything! I remember doing the Splashy Dance. I remember waltzing with you, Mary Ann. I remember it all." He reached up and rubbed his temples. "And my head remembers drinking too much berry tea."

"There's some mango juice I made earlier, there on the table." The relief in Mary Ann's voice was palpable. "Drink that, it'll make you feel better."

The three of them began clearing up. Skipper listened to Mary Ann and Gilligan chattering away nineteen to the dozen, almost like a couple that had skipped courtship altogether and gone straight to 'old married' status. Mary Ann was chiding Gilligan for pretending he didn't remember dancing with her. Gilligan was asking her if he was a better dancer than the Professor, and surely he was better than Norbert Wiley, whom she had chosen to dance with even though he had kidnapped her. When Gilligan stopped for breath and the Skipper could finally get a word in, he told Gilligan that Splashy had not reappeared, and of his concerns for the little dolphin's safety.

"He'll be fine, Skipper," Gilligan said reassuringly. "And besides, I've got a real strong gut feeling that he'll be back sooner than you think."

"Oh?" Skipper was intrigued. "What makes you say that?"

"Because I told him that Mary Ann would be waiting for him with a kiss."

"Gilligan! You did not tell him that!" Mary Ann shrieked and almost dropped the broom, but when she turned away the Skipper could see she was smiling. And blushing.

"I did, too!" Gilligan grinned, happily.

"Well, that would certainly be something to come back for," the Skipper chuckled.

"You boys behave yourselves!" Mary Ann giggled, but secretly she was thrilled that Gilligan had even mentioned Splashy and the kissing.

* * *

><p>The Skipper spent all day going back and forth to the lagoon, trudging back to the huts with a forlorn expression every time he found the lagoon empty. The Professor didn't know what to say to him. <em>Everything will be fine? It's too soon to start worrying? A watched pot never boils? <em>Best to keep out of the way and say nothing at all, he decided. After all, being whacked with the Skipper's hat for saying something stupid was Gilligan's job.

By evening time it was clear that the Skipper was feeling depressed about the whole thing, and the castaways ate quietly, out of respect for the big man's feelings. Even Gilligan was quiet, chewing his food thoughtfully, although under the table his feet scuffed back and forth through the sand. At the other end of the table, the Professor sat with his chin in one hand, his food untouched. Instead he was writing scientific equations in his gravy with one tine of his wooden fork, trying to work out the realistic possibilities that Splashy would one day come back.

* * *

><p>The next day and the day after were the same. There was still no sign of Splashy. The Skipper began to think the worst. On the third day, the Skipper wouldn't even broach the subject of the little dolphin at all, and the other castaways became concerned. They tried cheering him up, but they were shocked when he barked at Gilligan for suggesting a nice walk to the other side of the island to look at the turtles.<p>

"_Turtles_? What do I want with turtles?" he roared.

Mrs. Howell fiddled nervously with her pearls while her husband put his arm around her shoulders. The Professor exchanged a look with Ginger, and Mary Ann put her hand to her mouth, her eyes wide as saucers.

"I just thought..." said Gilligan, shrinking back.

"Well, _don't_ think!" the Skipper yelled, and then immediately regretted his outburst, apologising profusely until Gilligan went red as his shirt with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, little buddy. I really am. I didn't mean to yell at you like that. But turtles...well, they just don't do it for me the way Splashy did. Don't you understand?"

"I do understand, Skipper," said Gilligan. "But turtles are okay in their own way. There's this one turtle, see, I'm kind of training him myself. Not to go for help or anything- we'd be too old to be rescued by the time a turtle got back. But I had a pet turtle called Herman when I was younger and he kind of reminds me of Herman, even though Herman was a girl, and..."

"All right, Gilligan, I'll come to the other side of the island with you to look at the turtles. But not right now, okay, little buddy? Not right now."

"Okay, Skipper," Gilligan said. "Some other time, maybe. When you're not so worried that Splashy might be..." at which point, seeing the thunderous look that suddenly returned to the Skipper's face, Gilligan promptly turned tail and ran, holding fast to his hat while the other castaways sighed and rolled their eyes.

* * *

><p>Later that same afternoon, Gilligan found the Skipper sitting morosely on his rock by the lagoon, his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands looking thoroughly dejected.<p>

"I'm sorry, Skipper," he said. "I didn't mean to make you sore. I was just trying to help."

"Gilligan, that's what always happens when you try to help. But it's okay. You know I don't get sore for long."

"Still," said Gilligan, sitting on the sand beside the rock, "I don't like it when you do."

"All right," the Skipper said, wryly, "I promise to stop getting sore if you promise to stop trying to help." He grinned down at Gilligan's expression of dismay. "I'm just kidding, Gilligan."

"I really did talk to Splashy," Gilligan said. "I know he was your other little buddy and all, but he liked to listen to me, too, especially when he was towing me around the lagoon. I told him, 'Splashy, you'll be doing us a real big favour if you do what we want you to do. Go out and find someone to rescue us, straight out to the shipping lanes, and don't go the wrong way'. That's what I said. Go straight out, and don't go the wrong way. And the way he was swimming the day he left, he was heading straight out, Skipper. Straight out, faster than a speeding bullet." Gilligan made a chopping motion with his arm, ending with his hand pointing straight out across the lagoon, out towards the shipping lanes.

"Well it sure is taking him an awful long time," the Skipper fretted. "The shipping lanes aren't _that_ far away- at least not for a speeding dolphin."

They sat there in silence for a while, which was hard for Gilligan to do, but he knew if he kept talking he'd only make the Skipper sore again. They both looked out towards the bend in the lagoon, sometimes getting excited when they saw movement, and both deflating with an identical sigh when it turned out to be just a regular fish.

After around fifteen more minutes had passed, Gilligan spoke up, a slight note of excitement in his voice. "Skipper, I think I can hear something," he said, sitting up straight and putting his hand on the Skipper's knee.

"You can? Are you sure, Gilligan?" the Skipper placed his own hand over Gilligan's, leaning forward so that he might see the lagoon even better if he reduced the gap by six inches.

"Yeah...I'm pretty sure I heard something. Um...Skipper, why are you holding my hand?" Gilligan looked with mild interest at the Skipper's knee, where their two hands had become entwined.

The Skipper growled impatiently and abruptly pushed Gilligan's hand away. "More to the point, Gilligan, why did you put your hand on my knee to begin with?"

"Because it was there," Gilligan retorted. "Anyway, ssssshhhh. I'm trying to listen."

"You? Listen? Keep trying, little buddy, you never listen to anything!"

"No, really, Skipper. Listen- out there. Can't you hear something?"

The Skipper closed his mouth and strained his ears, turning his head this way and that. "You know, you may be right, little buddy- I think I _can_ hear something!"

"Something like a dolphin squeaking?" Gilligan said, his voice rising excitedly.

"Yes, Gilligan, I think it _is_ something like a dolphin squeaking!"

And then, to their sheer delight and amazement, they saw their little dolphin friend appear around the bend and come swimming straight for the beach, leaping out of the water, blowing plumes of spray from his blowhole and chattering loudly and happily.

"It's Splashy!" Gilligan yelled, leaping to his feet without even using his hands as leverage. "Splashy! Splashy!" He began skittering around on the sand as if he couldn't make up his mind in which direction he wanted to go. "_Professor_!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. "_Professor! Mary Ann! Ginger! Mr. and Mrs. Howell! Professor, everybodyyyyyyy_! _Splashy's come baaaack!" _

Gilligan's voice was loud enough for everyone to hear him from the huts. Mary Ann stared at Ginger, Ginger stared at the Professor, the Professor stared at the Howells and the Howells stared at each other. Then, dropping everything and almost falling over themselves, they all went running (or in the Howells' case, walking very quickly) down to the beach. As they arrived onto the sand one by one, they saw the Skipper and Gilligan jumping around together and waving their hats in the air as their dolphin friend leapt out of the water and rolled in mid air, over and over again, as though he had never left.

"Look! He's not wearing his sign!" the Professor declared. "I wonder if it broke off or was taken off?"

The girls were already half way down the beach, leaving the Professor musing quietly by himself. They joined in with Gilligan's and the Skipper's excitement, jumping up and down on the sand, clapping their hands with glee. And then everyone stopped jumping and stood quietly in a line, shushing each other, as something else appeared around the bend, something too far away to see clearly, but coming closer all the time.

"What's _that_?" asked Ginger, wide-eyed.

"It's not a boat," said Mary Ann, reaching for Gilligan's arm.

"It looks like a raft," said Gilligan, unconsciously putting his hand over Mary Ann's.

"With a man on it!" said the Skipper, shading his eyes from the sun and squinting at the approaching shape.

"A raft?" said the Professor, gloomily. "He brought us a _man on a raft_?"

Gilligan looked at the Professor over the top of Mary Ann's head while she held tightly onto his arm. "Isn't that what we taught him to do, Professor?"

The Professor looked resigned. "I suppose it is, but...somehow I hoped he would use the raft as a guide. That he wouldn't necessarily think he had to look specifically for a raft. I wanted him to find a boat."

"If we could build a boat," said Gilligan, "we could have trained him to bring us a boat."

"Gilligan, if we could build a boat we wouldn't be here, we'd have sailed away on it ourselves!" said the Skipper.

"Oh, well at least he brought us something," said Mary Ann, trying to avoid Gilligan being smacked by the Skipper's hat.

"And some_one_," said Ginger, as the raft got nearer and nearer.

And then collectively their hearts sank down to the ground as they all recognised the person who was helming the raft- a person dressed in tatty, torn aviation gear, even after all this time.

"It can't be!" wailed Mrs. Howell.

"It isn't...!" said Ginger.

"It is!" said Mr. Howell.

"Wrongway Feldman!" they all cried in unison, staring in dismay at the man who was now pulling in to the shore, his bearded face burnt red from the sun, looking like a bedraggled cross between Charles Lindburgh and Robinson Crusoe.

"Is this yours?" Wrongway shouted, holding up the little sign that had once hung around Splashy's neck.

"Gilligan!" said the Skipper, crossly. "This is your fault!"

"How is it my fault?" Gilligan squeaked, now holding as tightly to Mary Ann's arm as she was holding onto his.

"Saying the words 'wrong way' to Splashy! Making him go out and get _Wrongway_!"

"But...but," Gilligan protested, "how was Splashy supposed to know Wrongway's name?"

"I see you found my little friend!" Wrongway said, as his raft bumped up against the shore and he got off.

"_Your_ little friend?" the Skipper blustered.

"Sure! I've known this little guy since he was born just off the shore of my own island. I practically raised him myself. I named him Wrongway Junior, on account of he's always gettin' lost. He brings me fish- when he isn't gettin' lost, that is. Always gettin' lost, ain't that right, Junior? Just like your old namesake here!"

Splashy clicked and laughed, bobbing his head out of the water in agreement.

"Gilligan, his name is Wrongway! He knows the name Wrongway! You...you..." the Skipper was slowly going redder and redder in the face.

"How was I supposed to know that?" Gilligan pouted.

"Didn't he tell you? When you were having all of your wonderful conversations?" the Skipper said sarcastically.

"Skipper! I don't like the tone of your voice!" Gilligan said, suddenly.

"Well, get used to it, little buddy, because you're going to be hearing a lot more of it from now on!"

Gilligan shot the Skipper a look of pure petulance, turned on his heels and stomped off, forgetting that Mary Ann was attached to his arm. She yelped as she was almost pulled off her feet, and then she went running up the beach with him, trying to console him and tell him that the Skipper didn't mean it, that his emotions must be all over the place now that he knew that Splashy was safe.

"All he ever does is blame everything on me," Gilligan grumbled, stomping off the sand and onto the jungle path. "I told Splashy not to go the wrong way. Not to _go get Wrongway_!"

"Gilligan, no-one is blaming you, and when the Skipper calms down he won't blame you, either."

"Wrongway isn't going to rescue us," Gilligan sulked. "And I suppose I'll get the blame for that, too."

"Of course you won't," Mary Ann said, pulling on Gilligan's arm to get him to stop. "Gilligan, please stop this running away. It doesn't solve anything and just makes you more angry."

"I'm not angry!" Gilligan said loudly, then stopped and hung his head in shame. "Okay, maybe I am. Just a little bit. Because everything's always my fault, even when it isn't."

"This isn't your fault." Mary Ann stepped closer to him, putting her hand gently on his upper arm. "And nobody thinks it is. Least of all me. And you know why? Because I have faith in you, Gilligan. I know how hard you try."

"I do try," Gilligan said quietly. "I want to go home as much as anyone. It's a real nice island, and we have fun here, but I don't want us to stay here forever. Not to see anyone we love ever again. I don't want that."

"I know you don't," said Mary Ann. "And Skipper knows it too. But this is how the two of you have always been- from the first day we all met on the _Minnow_. And do you know what? I remember thinking what a wonderful friendship you both had, that you could tease each other and argue and make fun of each other, but that you were closer than anyone I'd ever met. Like you would do anything for each other."

"I guess," said Gilligan, holding onto his sulk with grim determination.

"Yes, it's a little frustrating that Wrongway Feldman turned up, of all the people who _could_ have rescued us, but we didn't make that happen, and you certainly didn't make it happen. And if anyone says you did? Well..." Mary Ann pulled her shoulders back and squared her chin, "...they'll have me to contend with."

"You?" said Gilligan, saucer-eyed.

"Yes, me. I may be small, Gilligan, but I know how to wrestle a baby steer to the ground!"

"You do?"

"I do."

"Not the 'I do's' again," he muttered, then looked her up and down, curiously. He couldn't help a small smile creeping onto his face. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"Sucking in my gut," Mary Ann replied, slightly out of breath. "And sticking out my chest."

"I can see _that_," said Gilligan, and finally he laughed, his face softening immediately, his petulant frown vanishing at once as a wide grin split his face and made those dimples that Mary Ann loved so much. "At ease, cadet," he grinned.

"Only if you stop sulking and come back to the beach."

"Okay, okay. You win." Gilligan removed his hat and clutched it in front of his heart, plastering a look of contrition to his face. "Am I forgiven?"

Mary Ann reached up and kissed his cheek gently, letting her face linger close to his for just a moment longer than she needed to, delighted when he didn't squirm or pull away. "Always, Gilligan," she said softly. "Always."

When they got back to the beach, they found Skipper and Wrongway arguing over who was Splashy's best friend.

"Wrongway Junior!" the aviator was whining. "His name is Wrongway Junior, because he always goes the wrong way!"

"His name is Splashy!" shouted the Skipper. "Because he always splashes!"

The Professor was standing with his shoulders slumped and his face in his hands while Ginger stroked his back soothingly. Mr. Howell was shaking his head and muttering while Mrs. Howell twirled her parasol and made her own observations on the whole matter.

"As the old saying goes, never send a fish to do a man's job."

"Lovey, what old saying?" asked her husband, wearily.

"Oh, I don't know, exactly. But if there isn't one, there ought to be."

Meanwhile, Splashy the dolphin, or Wrongway Junior, swam around the lagoon in a state of high excitement at all the voices babbling around him, his little dolphin's smile seeming wider than ever as he jumped out of the lagoon and slapped the water with his tail, laughing and chattering at the antics of his human friends.

"Well, it looks like we won't be getting rescued today," Gilligan said to Mary Ann, as they looked from the Skipper to Wrongway to Skipper and back again, enjoying the spectacle of the two big men arguing like children over a favourite toy. "But if we stick around long enough, we might just get to see Wrongway being rescued from the Skipper!"

THE END


End file.
